Pieces of Me
by Miki Mae
Summary: Kagami runs from his life in the States only to fall into a whirlwind of confusion. Who is the teal haired artist that he finds sitting among the spring flowers? Is Mrs T going to kill him with her outrageous chore list? Who ever said that making friends would be easy? College!AU with Artist!Kuroko
1. picking oneself up

**WARNING: BL, yaoi, mentions of suicide/depression, self-harm, spelling/grammatical errors**

**PAIRINGS: **KagaKuro (main); MidoTaka and AkaFuri(side), maybe Junpei/Teppei, KasaKis or AoMo

**A/N:** Each chapter is based on a daily prompt which is used as the Chapter name. Chapters will remain this length.

AU set where Kagami only goes to Japan after High School. First Chapter is set in the States. Please excuse any wrong indications I may have toward Japanese or American life - I am neither and so correct me if I'm wrong.

_**1\. picking oneself up**_

It started with ice-cream, because what self-respecting summer's day at the beach doesn't? Surprisingly the 'ice-cream' effect, as I like to call it, didn't last too long. Considering my mental depiction of how this day was supposed to carry out, it's clear to say I'm beyond disappointed at how quickly it rolls downhill. Perhaps, if I were vague enough, I could blame the circumstances on the depleting heat or maybe a lack of water in favour of luke-warm fizzy drinks. It doesn't change the fact that I'm half-naked, sun burnt and alone on what was meant to be the climax of my pathetic dating life.

I've had to scrub myself raw of sand beneath the utility showers at least three times already, merely because I refused to stumble into the salty sea and experience decades worth of liquid waste. It occurs to me belatedly that the showers are useless as the sun continues to beat down at me with the might of Thor's hammer, leaving my skin an angry red and sweaty. I guess I could avoid the whole scene altogether, if I'd just allow my pride to dent and ask someone for help, but I don't. I don't because on this blistering day, surrounded by happy families, couples and friends, I'm lonelier than I've been since ninth grade. And ninth grade was pretty bad.

Muscles aching, I push onwards, falling into a light jog that really wasn't all that great in this heat. My arms pump at my sides and I struggle to draw in meaningful breaths, but I don't falter in my plight. I scurry my way across the beach until I reach the dock before turning with a tired sigh to head right back to where I'd started. Some idiot, probably my batty, blonde, basketball coach, had suggested I run on the beach when the blues crept up on me. And although I doubted gruelling hours of aching muscles and crisping skin was her intention, I couldn't stop.

I just kept going, my mind slowly numbing the shock from that afternoon with the weight of fatigue. Momentarily my step faltered, my ankle twisting in a particularly soft, dry patch of sand. I tumble, most clumsily, to the ground, successfully managing to get myself a mouthful of damp sand and shells in palms. For a short while I content myself with muttering 'Disgusting' while spitting out sand, but eventually I cannot ignore the sand clinging to the front of the stupid 'Directionless' shirt Himuro had left at my house years ago (which is really the only appropriate top I had for a beach date).

While I'm not entirely sentimental, the shirt still holds value and the fact is that being caked in damp sand – that anyone's untrained dog could have peed on today – was mentally disturbing. I shove myself to my feet with only a soft grunt and almost topple over with a wave of dizziness. As much faith as I have in my endurance, I'm not sure I'll be able to pick myself up emotionally or physically one more time.


	2. an artist

**Time skip - Japan**

_**2\. an artist**_

The first time I saw him was…extraordinary to say the least; especially as he was a pale blob of shimmering blue surrounded by a kaleidoscope of spring flowers. For a split second I could swear I was transported into a crappy romance movie, not that the atmosphere is nearly idealistic enough. Besides the guy is seated cross-legged on the floor with a canvas propped up against a ratty back pack.

Strange…I consider simply jogging past him, moving on my way before the sun finishes its slow ascent into a sky that's looking remarkably more like the artist's hair with each moment that pasts. Yet something holds me back, maybe it's the way his fingers move back and forth in a rhythmic _dab-dab-mix-dab_ motion; but then again it could be the steady growth of trillions of tiny daisies that are making their way across the canvas. Whatever the reason, I pause in my morning jog – maybe I could call it a scouting mission – to stare over the boy's shoulder at his work.

This new environment filled with new people and a different culture seemed to be rubbing my nerves raw. It's the first time since my arrival here that the pressure of being an outsider is set on the back burner of my chaotic thoughts. The movement of the artist's paintbrush enthrals me and I watch each stoke with buzzing curiosity. Not only is the man good, but he's _great_ at what he's doing. Within moments the blank canvas is overflowing with cheerful, flower heads and a curiously clear blue sky – again reminiscent of the boy's oddly coloured hair.

I'm not entirely sure how the painting manages to look this joyful considering the artist's lacklustre posture and the simplicity of the scene. Yet somehow it makes me feel lighter, warmer than any amount of friendly neighbour-talk that had occurred in the last few days. Somehow this artist captures the loneliness I'd been feeling for weeks before my move to Japan, and for the few days afterward, and banishes them with the delicate stroke of his brush.

Suddenly there's a choked sound and the paintbrush stalls, small fingers tightening around the thin wooden handle. When the boy (Man or teenager? He's so small! Just how old is this kid?) whips his head around, I nearly jump from my skin and stumble back. I'm confronted with eyes equally enthralling as the arctic hair and sky, but only in colour.

My cheeks flush and I take another stumbling step back, further away from that bland expression that really is too pretty for a guy of any age.

"What do you want?" The artist asks, his voice is surprisingly strong, but still as soft and quiet as his delicate features suggest. There's a splotch of yellow paint smeared across his cheek.

I struggle to formulate an intelligent response as my mind whirs over my limited Japanese. Damn, why's this kid so cute? I have the most insane urge to pet his oddly coloured hair. I clear my throat after a moment; the guy doesn't relent in his emotionless regard of my flustered appearance. "I-I was just…ah, looking…" I wave a hand toward his artwork because I'm not sure if I used the right phrasing for my words.

They seem to content the boy though as he soon turns back to his work and diligently continues his painting as if I'd never been there in the first place. I deflate at the anti-climatic end to our limited conversation and wait one long moment more before I turn to resume my jogging.


	3. listen to the song

_**3\. listen to the song**_

The sun is barely peaking across the mountaintops when I leave my apartment and the air has enough chill in it to shock the lasting vestiges of sleep from my system. I shiver as I pause before my building, my head bowed as I struggle to untangle the cords of my earphones. It takes a few precarious moments and an insufficient choice of English cusses before the ear pieces are freed from a death knot.

Breathing a sigh, I put the earphones in place and scroll through my music hitting a random playlist before tucking the IPod into a specialised arm strap adorning my bicep. As the first cords of some unknown guitar solo pierces my mind I throw my arms up to stretch and take a saccharine moment to tug at the stiff muscles from the day before.

Then, just as the first rays of light feather across the dark sky, my feet break into a jog, dragging me in a new direction. Today I head right, away from the convenience store and the old book nook close to the park; toward the florist and the residential expanse before the university sport field. My feet hit the ground with the rhythm of the music, slowing and going faster at casual intervals as the songs switch at random.

Without conscious effort I breeze down the streets, catching early birds like myself out to fetch a bottle of milk before breakfast or joining me in my galloping madness. I mildly wonder whether we look like scurrying ants headed in different directions. _Colourful, fast ants, we are_, I think as a purple haired giant sprints past me headed straight for the still-closed candy store.

Shaking my head, I try to dispel the oddity of the colourful haired occupants of Teiko. Granted it's a university community, but the flashes of lilac and arctic-coloured hair was a decidedly strange thing even for me with my own multi-coloured mop of black and red (colours that I deem are natural enough to not make me look like some weird, delinquent, American kid). Perhaps it's a trend for the Japanese youth; I contemplate as I pass by the grumbling giant whose face is pressed against the shop's glass door.

As the playlist moves from song to song my feet carry me around the block, my mind subconsciously taking in the fall of cherry blossoms and the abundance of flowers adorning gardens, sidewalks and window stills. I admit that moving from a crowded, dilapidated city to a backwater, university town might have been the best decision I've made since I let the elderly lady across the street teach me to cook back when I was eleven.

Somehow after the sun has risen and sweat starts to form on my brow, I find myself in a familiar setting of rainbow fields and park benches. In the midst of the bright polychromatic setting and under the blooming Sakura is a pale creature with matching blue eyes and hair. Without consent my jog falters until I'm approaching the artist in a steady gait that is reminiscent of a snail. I peek over his shoulder to see the artwork propped against his bag. I find a scene of shadowy storm clouds so contrasting to the bright morning and the previous day's cheerful artwork that without thinking I blurt out my thoughts in English.

"That looks so miserable…" When the artist spares me a quick glance I can see the same shadows in his eyes.


	4. simple thoughts

**_simple thoughts_**

I don't know why, but when I wake the next morning all I really want to do is go find that artist again. The fierce sorrow I'd seen in sky-like orbs had haunted my dreams. Every way I turned the sky would be shrouded in heavy, angry clouds prepared to let loose a torrent of pencil-tip rain drops.

My morning routine of dressing, using the bathroom and somewhat combing my hair into a semblance of order was cut short in my rush to leave the apartment. Earphones barely shoved into place, I was off with a speed that would make any track coach proud.

Feet hit the tar like a man out of hell and I barely gave the blur of purple hair a second thought as I retraced my steps from the day before. The sun crested the mountaintops and lit my path with false cheer. Flowers rose from their evening bows and stretched lazy petals toward the light, swaying slightly in the rushed wind of my passing.

The spring fields made their way into my view. I paused for a bare moment to catch my breath and wipe dripping sweat from my brow. My chest hitched up and down, struggling for air that the exertion would not yet allow. I'd become lax in the weeks it took me to organise my move here, box packing and phone calls did nothing for fitness.

Once my lungs stop grasping at straws, I straighten and allow my eyes to scan my surroundings. All looks the same as before, if not a tad darker for the sun was yet to reach its morning peak. I shouldn't have ran so fast, I deduce.

The only thing missing from the scene is the delicate, pale artist with sad eyes and crazy painting skills. The air is sucked right from my lungs anew and alarm bells blare in my head. What if something happened to him? What if that sadness had overwhelmed the small guy and he saw no point in trying anymore? Crazy as my deductions seemed, they'd come true for me and friends of mine too many times back in the States. Stories of sudden suicide or abductions were rife and it made my chest pain to think that arctic eyes would never examine these spring flowers again.

With a settled scowl on my face I turn, not too sure where I plan on searching for the little guy, but knowing that I have to try anyway.

Pale blue eyes lock my gaze and I barely realise that I've stopped breathing until the artist cocks his head and mutters a quiet 'good morning'. I struggle from my shock and relief to gurgle a broken Japanese greeting and the boy's lips seem to turn up, if only by a millimetre.

"Enjoy your jog," the artist murmurs in that endearing, discreet way he greeted me not moments before. When I don't answer he steps around me and settles into his spot among the flowers.

I splutter and reach a hand to tug at the hair by my neck, "Ah, g-good painting today,"

His head doesn't turn, but he pauses is removing a palette from his knapsack and, it could be my imagination, he answers with a polite 'thank you'.


	5. rebellion

_**rebellion**_

It started that first day I met Tatsuya Himuro: my addiction, my craze, my single minded need to experience everything that I'd never had before.

It started with that first basketball game: the yearning to win, the craving to exceed all limits placed on me and take back the snide comments about the 'shortie' redhead.

Oh, did I succeed! Life hit me hard and fast; throwing things at me that I wanted it to, but at the same time hoped it wouldn't. Needless to say there was enough pain and revelation to go around the world and return to slap me in the face tenfold.

Ninth grade was the apex of my hellish life back in the States. That was the year they figured out that 'shortie' Taiga was not as rough and mean as they first assumed, in fact it was more my sudden growth spurt that gave that impression than anything else. The fool with dyed red and black hair, with a death grip to rival the coach's was actually gay – well in theory I was bi, but that didn't seem like reason enough for them to shun me.

Despite my size and murderous aura, teens reacted the only way they knew how: treating me like I was a wasp infestation and they were exterminators.

Granted Tatsuya simply shrugged and mentioned that he'd known all along, but my need for morale support did not stop him from up and leaving our city as soon as his parents were fed-up enough with his rebellious nature to send him away. I was left to fend for myself among the vultures, not nearly as easy when you're a teenager with an identity crisis as it should be with supportive friends.

I still have the reminders of when I was pushed too far, thin streaks of pale scar tissue along my thighs that no-one knew of, except maybe Alex – but only because she'd wandered into the gym showers one day when I'd been rearranging a Band-Aid across a particularly deep cut. Most of the scars have faded into my tan, save a few that found their way onto my skin in the weeks I'd been struggling for a means to escape to Japan and was too weak to resist.

I never was desperate enough to risk my basketball career by looking to the needle and for that I'm thankful. I'm well aware that without the all-consuming sport I probably wouldn't be alive today. Despite how hectic life is and how much it may suck, I'm glad to be alive, to be able to see something as stunning as Teiko during spring.

Boiling water scalds my skin, but I don't reach to make the shower colder. The heat beats at my exerted muscles, easing the tension and causing my shoulders to drop. Memories of pale skin and pastel blue eyes worm their way into my head. They cause me to wonder whether, buried somewhere under those casual, paint-splattered clothing, the little artist is hiding thin, silvery scars too.

God, I hope not.

My hands curl into fists and I place them against the tiled shower wall. _I hope not…_


	6. candy apple red

_**MARCH 30 – candy apple red**_

My last day of freedom before university registration comes about in what feels like a blink of an eye, although I know without a doubt I've seen the blue artist at least three times more since my mini freak out and our awkward conversation. I'm disappointed to admit that we haven't spoken to each other again since – mostly because I'm a coward and can't convince myself to ask for his name.

The morning is crisp and a little brighter than usual when I stumble from my apartment building – I blame this on the captivating Japanese game shows that, for some reason, were playing at midnight and my weak resistance…Heaven knows that plays a hectically large factor in my sleeping in.

Either way, I begin my customary morning jog, which has somehow centred itself around the park in which the mysterious artist sits each morning. Not that I'm complaining, the field was pretty and the art of it was breath-taking…I won't even start on the artist; I didn't have the time or brain power to dwell on him just yet.

There are more people out that normal, _maybe because you slept in, Bakagami_! I cringe at my internal scolding (which sounds suspiciously similar to that of a familiar blonde coach) and almost have to laugh at the absurdity of it. Alex would definitely be scoffing at me if she was here, yet I'm sure she'd be winking suggestively as well for my musings on a certain blue eyed boy.

I reach the field in record time, somewhat fearful that the artist would have left already and not wanting to miss my last chance to see him before life grows hectic once again.

I'm surprised and grateful to see that the mop of fluffy blue is still present when I arrive, but for a moment I'm thrown for a loop as I notice my artist is not alone. By his side is a bowed red head – not nearly as deep as my own red, but more of a candy apple red that verges on a deep pink – belonging to a man equally short and pale as the artist. I pause abruptly and stare as the artist murmurs, the red head's shoulders shaking with laughter.

For a while I simply stand and observe them. The artist has friends… well _of course_ he does, but that doesn't affect my surprise in the least_. He isn't you, Taiga_; he probably has masses of people to talk to in this town alone. It causes an unexpected, sharp pain in my chest, which really is quite stupid. It's the same feeling I had when Tatsuya abruptly moved away, like I've just lost a friend and I'm going to be all alone again.

I suck in a sharp breath and turn away, best not to interrupt them. They're likely enjoying each other's company one last time before the chaotic mess of businesses and training facilities start up again. I've barely taken two steps away when I hear a soft chocking sound that makes me pause and turn my head.

The artist catches my eyes as he has one hand stretched out before him, his lips parted and his cheeks tinged a pale pink. Slowly the hand lowers, 'good morning' he follows up in a nearly inaudible whisper.

My cheeks must turn the colour of my hair when I stutter the same greeting and the candy-head gives me a small glare with mismatched eyes. I don't let the hostility deter me though as I jog away, a grin plastered to my face. The artist had made an effort to greet me even though he had company – my heart's about to burst from my chest.


	7. chatter

_**chatter**_

The dull buzz of voices grew with each step until it was a roar that drowned out the answering nervousness in that back of my head. My first day at Uni, in a new country, with new people and a language that still makes my head spin a little even though I've spoken it enough to feel fluent – it's making me scared as hell. I nibble on the inside of my cheek and sway from foot to foot, peeking over the head in front of me, everyone struggling to get on campus. It's good to be tall sometimes.

I'm thoroughly jostled and deaf by the time I can see the registration desks in the distance. My heart does this strange jolt and whither motion that has sweat clinging to my forehead as I try to pick out the sign for first year registration – _damn it, what is the kanji again?_

Despite my initial fear, once a dark haired man beckons me to a certain table things go rather smoothly and progress fast enough that soon I'm holding a campus guide, a stack of pamphlets and an information booklet that's thicker than my hand moments later. I'm hustled off to another table where they force me to check my subjects, classes and assigned teachers. It's overwhelming and makes my head spin.

I belatedly think I shouldn't have had that third cup of coffee, especially because I can't make out a single conversation while my head is exploding with white noise.

Blocking out the chatter, I crane my neck to look around for a vacant area, which isn't really that difficult considering I'm a head higher than most. Shoving my way past fast forming groups and overbearing laughter, I manage to stumble into a human-free spot beneath a _sakura_ tree. I press my shoulders back against the bark and use the new position to stabilise the chaos resounding in my head.

My eyes flutter closed, focusing internally and shoving away the loud babble around me. Moments pass and blissfully my heart resumes its natural rate, my mind clears of the anxious fog.

A light pressure presses against my arm and for a moment I ignore it, except it comes again. _Insistent fly_, I grumble within and try to swat it away, the pile of papers topples dangerously and my eyes snap open in alarm.

"Good morning,"

I'm ashamed to admit that I _do_ scream like a frightened five-year old girl and successfully drop the conglomeration of paper in my arms like a sudden fall of fat snowflakes. My shock quickly turns from the urge to scream in anger to an embarrassed blush as blue eyes glitter up at me in amusement. I sputter something that somehow resembles, "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry," my artist offers and gives a quick bow – I swear he's laughing himself to tears on the inside. "I wanted to welcome you to Teiko," he states with the slight tilt of his head. "I'm Kuroko Tatsuya,"

I nod my head slowly, my eyes flickering from the boy to the papers at my feet; I can't decide which is more important: learning the artist's name or the papers dictating where my classes were going to be for the next few weeks. I lick my lips and automatically stick out my hand. "Kagami Taiga."


	8. new beginings

_**new beginnings**_

I feel bad that my morning jogs stilted once classes started. Granted the few times I've roused myself from bed an hour before my first class and managed a short jog, the artist, Kuroko, hadn't been there. It was disappointing, yet made more sense that I warranted it. In all honesty I'd been shocked that the artic-blue eyed artist was indeed a university student –as much as it shamed me (for I'd developed a minor crush on the kid) I'd assumed the boy was still in school, in his third year at the most. Although this new revelation made my impure thoughts slightly more acceptable, it did not lessen my want to scream into a pillow at the absurdity of this situation.

At the very least, the best news thus far, Kuroko was in his first year as well – which could only mean I'd have a better chance to see him around campus. So far I'd only see the artist on that first day, as much as it irked me. I was pretty sure I couldn't miss his shock of blue hair any more than I could that purple giant that happened to be in my culinary class. Yet I haven't laid my eyes on the pale blue features.

I scold myself for allowing the kid to become the centre of my attention, especially as I have been granted assignments in my first week. Who knew professors could be as evil as high school teachers? Then again it might just be Junpei-sensei as Teppei-sensei was rather sweet and smiley – a little _too_ sweet and smiley as it may be, his kindness seemed to piss the purple giant off to no end.

Evil as Junpei-sensei was, I liked how he got things going, scared everyone into doing their work – even the asshole with dark blue hair in the back of the class moved when Junpei commanded. I have no clue why the lazy bastard was in my Sport Management class, he clearly wasn't interested in learning anything – and he was constantly glaring at _me_! What had I done to earn his aggravation? His mere _presence_ had started to make me angry and I didn't even know his name, plus I'd only had three classes with him so far.

There was this...chick in my Sport Management class though, what was her name…Riko? She was as terrifying as Junpei, despite being a student, and had no qualms about bossing the blue haired bastard into working and not glaring holes into the back of my head. _I might come to like her_, I thought in joy as she shushed the man by snapping a ruler against the back of his head.

My chances at friends weren't high, but then again they didn't know my sordid past and leaving out the blue bugger in SM with me, I had a relatively normal rate of making acquaintances. A new beginning, I smiled loosely, this is what I've been looking for since my last day at high school. Damn, it's what I've been seeking since ninth grade.

Now, here, maybe I'd be successful.

"Kagami-kun!" Riko snarled close to my ear and I turned my head to her in shock at the sudden hostility, "Sensei asked you a question,"

I turned my head to the front and took in Junpei's scowl, neatly hidden behind his glasses. From the back of the class I heard the blue one – that from now I'm nicknaming 'Ace-sama' in spite – chuckle and I wonder whether Riko is really on my side in this undeclared war.


	9. so cold

_**so cold**_

The chances of my waking to steady rain in late spring should be close to none. My bones protest the sudden cold and ache with every move I make. Even my skin refuses the Monday weather change by being extra sensitive; it prickles and burns as I'm shoving the last of my books into a bag.

Coffee does little more to heat me than the scarf I slung around my neck, but it wakes me more than the shock of my alarm clock could.

I scramble through the last three boxes, which I had yet to unpack, in search of an umbrella. My mission proves fruitful – which surprises me as I hadn't even known I _had_ an umbrella. Yet I'm glad that it was somehow (miraculously) shoved between ancient Marvel comics and basketball memorabilia from high school.

Slinging the rucksack over my shoulder, I hardly remember to lock the door in my wake, while struggling to get my scarf and the umbrella untangled from each other. I grumble a vague greeting to my elderly neighbour and wish her luck with the meeting she has with the orthodontist that afternoon, before escaping down the stairs and out the building.

The umbrella sprouts open under my fingers just in time to protect me from being soaked through. I fall into a light jog, but slow to a walk after a few feet. Water keeps splashing up and seeping into my pant legs – _completely_ defeating the purpose of the umbrella.

**Sorry it's so short.**


	10. punk rocker

_**punk rocker**_

I stumble onto campus, my shoes soaking and my toes frozen to the inside of my socks. The umbrella shudders in my fingers sending a fresh fall of rain across the perfectly dry building interior. Although I cuss at my struggle I manage to get the umbrella closed with a soft _snap_.

Finally the soft murmur of voices catches my attention. I turn from my struggle to find the lazy, blue-haired baboon from SM talking to the purple giant (is he really eating cake so early in the morning? It can't be healthy…), a bouncing blonde (definitely a supermodel and what's with that ear piercing?), a familiar candy-apple red-head with mismatched eyes (cute, in an 'I'll murder you' kind of way), a green haired guy wearing glasses (are those bandages around his fingers? Did he hurt himself? Should I call for help?) and finally my artic(summer, ice-cube, sky)-blue artist. For a moment all I can do is stare in awe, and shock, there's definitely some shock in there. The sheer eccentricity of the rainbow group steals my focus for a moment longer than necessary.

It takes me minutes to realise that _my_ artist is talking to that buffoon Aomine-Somethingorother guy. Even longer for me to take in the absurdity of Kuroko's hair. To say he looks insane would be an understatement. Artic blue hair stands radically straight up; defying gravity with no shame, in what I can only assume is an attempt to look like a punk-rocker.

_Prettiest punk rocker I've seen to date_. I nearly slap myself for that thought.

I must have made a sound of self-disgust because the blue-eyed boy turns in my direction and cocks his head endearingly to the side. "Kagami-kun, good morning,"

"Hi," I grumble, my eyes skittering over the suddenly silent group, only to land on Kuroko once again. "You hair looks…nice,"

A small smile breaks over his face while the blonde bursts into enthusiastic laughter.

"Kuro-chin has fun bed-hair," The purple titan murmurs around a fork. Even from the distance separating us I have to turn my head up to see his face.

_Bed-hair_? I stare; it's rather adorable if not completely unfathomable – it should be against all rules of science.

The red head is glaring – I recognise him now! That kid from the park, the one that was laughing with Kuroko – wow, he's also in Uni? It somehow bothers me that I could mistake the kid as a high school student, especially with that glower. But thankfully those eyes are directed at the SM ass instead of me this time. "You should not have rushed him this morning, Daiki."

A scoff follows, "If I hadn't he'd still be sleeping."

Kuroko ignores the comments completely, instead pinning me with those beautiful eyes and the softest smile in existence – that's it, completely illegal to be this adorable. "Thank you, Kagami-kun, although I'm afraid I did not plan it to look this way."

I blush, "You don't say."


	11. first love

_**first love**_

Unlike most days, this rainy spring day holds many surprises. Most of which come in the form of the rainbow squad.

It starts with the purple giant – Mura...Murasagi…Murasaki…munchies – moving to sit by me in our culinary class together. At first I'm surprised, if not a little happy, at the change of attitude. But it very quickly turns into a lazy Q&amp;A where Munchies asks me, at the very least, five times what my favourite sweets are before thoroughly criticising it. Meanwhile he chomps away at a box of pocky, followed by a bag of chips and innocent gummy bears that have their heads gnawed off. I leave the class more terrified of the man's endless stomach (yes, it's worse than mine) than interested in the upcoming cook-off Junpei-sensei was planning.

In my SM class, _Ace-sama_ makes a special effort to glare at me, throw paper wads at my head and completely disregard the limits of polite society by growling snarky remarks about my use of hiragana at random intervals. Needless to say that _if_ a fight broke out, I certainly wasn't the one walking away with a busted lip – although I _might_ have been thrown from the class by a Riko as grumpy as Teppei-sensei. That was a slight _if_. (I admit that smacking the braggart's face in would be mighty fun though.)

The energetic blonde found me next. He might have been attractive – not really my type though, too loud – but he could hardly stand still enough for me to determine if there was a matching ear ring on the other side of his head. Kise seemed nice enough though, friendly in a way that reminded me of puppies – I shudder at this – and constantly seeking attention. My gaze could not stray for a moment. The blonde seemed beyond fascinated in my love life and threw in Kuroko's name as an odd nickname enough times to let me on that he was fishing for the 411 on our relationship. He was even eager enough to tell me of his first love – seemingly he was only five at the time that he declared himself betrothed to his babysitter.

Passingly I come across the jade-headed man with the bandages, unlike the rest of the rainbow; he doesn't seem interested in me. In fact he's so consumed in scolding a shorter, raven boy that I have to call him three times before he will even glance my way. The raven seems pleased when four-eyes huffs, for what reason, I know not. I don't really feel like talking to him either – he seems rather aloof and condescending – so I get right to the point and ask if he's hand is okay. The raven giggles and the snob pushes up his glasses before murmuring something about precision and hurrying away, the raven right at his tail.

By the time the day ends and I'm about to leave campus, I'm sad to say that Kuroko was the only one I hadn't exchanged at least some words with during the day. Even the red-head had spoken to me at some point, although it was more a threat to not mess around and hurt Kuroko than anything else. I'm pretty sure scissors were involved, but that moment in my life seems rather vague if I think back on it. I might need to visit a neurologist soon.

I tuck the umbrella under my arm and drink in a breath of fresh, moist air, thankful that the down pour had relented. On my way out the gate I notice bubble-gum pink hair accompanied by artic-blue. My step falters when the girl wraps her arms around Kuroko and he smiles.


	12. swing set

_**swing set**_

I have no reason to feel betrayed. _None_. Kuroko never showed me any real interest (any interest at all if I'm completely honest); in fact our conversations so far had only consisted of greetings. I couldn't even qualify as his _friend_, perhaps an acquaintance if I squeezed past my blush and thought about this realistically. I've spoken to him all of six times and most of those times I'd stuttered like an idiot. If the artist had any opinion of me at all it would be of a blabbering stalker who struggled to speak his first language.

So why I want to march over to Kuroko and yank Pinkie from his arms baffles me. He is not mine to claim. He isn't mine to do anything with. 'Mine' was as far from reality as I could get. I have no doubt that he'd be disgusted by my possessive thoughts.

Dragging in a breath I turn and march away, forcing myself not to glance back. It won't matter if I do; all my facing them again will achieve is my own unease and discomfort. I do not want to dwell too long on this sentiment. _No good can arise from it_.

My mind wanders back and forth; no real topics save for the steps I take that lead me across the sidewalk. I assume my feet are taking me back to the apartment, back to the cold, safe hovel brimming with useless clutter and unpacked boxes. Only I'm woken from my self-induced stupor when instead of cracked paving and cement my eyes meet a kaleidoscope of spring flowers. The same flowers that make me think of pale blue eyes and hair, magnificent paintings and endearing 'good morning's.

For a short while I soak in the beautiful field and when my eyes settle on an innocent patch of ground devoid of flowers I start to laugh. Kuroko was so accurate in his seating that the spot was flowerless. The tension and confusion seeps away until all that's left is silent admiration and humour. Thoughts of pink hair and affectionate hugs seem distant and not as complicated. They don't bother me as much as they had mere moments before.

It reminds me vaguely of a time back in the States, a time when Tatsuya was still around; a time when there wasn't the problem of sexuality and depression; a time when I laughed about stupid things and didn't dwell on stress or pressure. I recall a dark evening, sitting on the swings under a sky too lit up by artificial light for us to see the stars. Tatsuya giggling uncontrollably at some lame joke I'd sprouted about the blonde girl, Alex, who believed herself to be a basketball genius. We had goose bumps on our arms and it was way beyond time to get home, there was a man sleeping on a bench close to the roundabout. Still we bemoaned life and chuckled, right up until the moment a policeman chased us away – demanding that we return home, and did we realise that it was a Wednesday evening?

That was our _place_. It was where we went to chatter about basketball, where we spent rainy days contemplating why we were forced to take cough syrup for a little cold. After a while the scuff marks from our toes against the ground grew into dry patches of dirt, the paint on the swing set faded into a dull, pink instead of the crimson it used to be. It stopped being our place when we entered High School, but the scuffle marks under my swing never grew over like Tatsuya's.

Staring at Kuroko's flowerless seat I wonder whether there used to be a second spot just like it. Had Pinkie or the scary two-toned red-head kept a spot clear in the spring or had it always been just Kuroko, with no one to tell lame jokes to?


	13. haunted

_**Updates are slowing down a tad after this.**_

**haunted**

That night memories of Tatsuya haunt my dreams and, although they're not necessarily sad nor brimming with anger, I wake from a restless night tired and sporting a rather nasty headache between my eyes. To be honest I did not despise the dreams for the ache behind my eyes, in fact I'm glad to say the night proved fruitful in reminding me of times I'd somewhat forgotten. Small moments of sharing burgers and burning scrambled eggs filled my mind, that moment when Tatsuya lent my jacket and pretended to be me by grunting and hiding behind the hood for a whole hour. My stomach cramps with memories of overeating, vigorous training by Alex the Exterminator and too much laughter.

The memories serve me well, but only so much. The headache wins with drowsiness placing a close second. I manoeuvre myself to the kitchen, where I'd stashed a box of flu medicine and pain pills in the draw below the cutlery, very nearly escaping all obstacles except the door frame to the kitchen. Somehow – I'm proud to say – I down two pills and a glass of water, all without having had my morning dose of caffeine first.

Coffee and a quick whip up of bacon and French toast with honey completes my morning. For a moment I consider taking a jog but quickly dismiss it in favour of skimming the net for any new updates on the NBAs. The morning runs have become somewhat a habit in the last year or two, yes they helped in my basketball plights, but that wasn't the reason why misty mornings saw me in a sleep induced coma. I used to run track in middle school, not that I enjoyed it, and I ran during basketball training in high school, never meant I enjoyed it either. It was that day at the beach that did it for me. I recall waking the next morning, skin burnt a brilliant red that rivalled the crimson of my hair, it was painful, but I forced myself to run off the restlessness. From that day the jogging had seemed relevant – necessary even.

There's nothing new on the internet, well nothing I deem worthy of wasting my time on, so I check the time and decide it's all right to leave ten minutes earlier than usual for class.

Mrs T – erm, Takumi-san – meets me outside and as usual gushes that I'm a tall boy and that I must surely eat all my food to have grown so. I chuckle nervously and question her on her visit to the doctor; before she can prattle on about dentures and her gums though we're graciously interrupted by a call from within her apartment, Mr T.

Takumi-san huffs and gives an offhanded comment about old men being unable to dress themselves before disappearing behind a door. Flushing and shaking my head, I enter the street with the sound of grumbled protests from the elderly couple following close on my heels. It leaves a comfortable warmth in my chest that no amount of jogging or net surfing could possibly achieve.

Dare I say there was an extra spring in my step as I headed to class?


	14. odd jobs

_**odd jobs**_

To say Mrs T is a slave driver would be an understatement, she puts whips and chains to shame with the way she wheedles me into performing her weekend tasks. It starts with me offering to carry a box when she complains about an ache in her hip; it soon escalates to me washing her cat when she mentions how she can no longer bend to do it herself. I thought my fear of dogs was justified, it seems misplaced now. I'm riddled in claw marks and blood oozes from my face, neck and arms in fantastic crimson. I redirect my hatred – cats are certainly the henchmen of Satan.

The fat tabby smugly munches on the tuna Mr T set out for it, while Mrs T roughly patches up the holes in my skin – all the while complaining that _Nyan is a gentle creature and Kagami-kun must have hurt her during the bath to have been scratched in such a manner._ Needless to say that I spent the next five minutes glaring at the fur ball with enough venom to make Kuroko's friend with the heterochromatic eyes proud.

Injury holds no meaning in Mrs T's eyes, despite my bloody state she insists on putting me back to work – _fit, young men like Kagami-san shouldn't let little, old ladies suffer in such heat_. So for the first time in my soon to be 20 years I learn how to dig up weeds and trim hedges. The thorns and shrubbery are no kinder than Nyan and I find myself aching in places that even basketball managed to miss.

By midday I'm soaked with sweat, I lost my shirt somewhere along the way and now I'm fighting with a particularly stubborn weed. Mrs T offered to head inside to collect some chilled water almost ten minutes ago and I have the sneaking suspicion that she stole that damn shirt and had no plan of bringing me water anytime soon. I also belatedly think this might have something to do with that 'single, pretty granddaughter' that was supposed to be visiting at two o'clock.

_Oh, if she only knew_. I chuckle lightly and wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of a gloved hand.

The minutes tick by slowly and by the time Mrs T brings me the water she is wearing a Cheshire grin, which I ignore in favour of gulping down the glass's cooled contents.

Suddenly: "Satsuki! You came," I turn my head slightly and freeze when my eyes fall on an, indeed pretty, pink haired girl. "And you brought friends," the second part hardly seems as excited and I can honestly say I agree with her disappointment when I spot the baka Ace-sama from SM. "Aomine-san," Mrs T greets crisply and sticks her nose in the air, "I did not know you were coming,"

The blue buffoon shrugs lazily, not bother to greet Mrs T. I feel a new kind of heat rise in my chest – the kind that dictates that my fist would look good in his face.

"I'm sorry for intruding," a voice utters demurely, I nearly jump from my skin and notice Mrs T is just as surprised when she places a hand over her chest. "Momoi-san invited me,"

"Oh," the lady's face breaks into a syrupy beam, "Kuroko-kun, you came as well, I'm so glad. It's been a while since Satsuki's brought you over."

My eyes are glued to the artist and I spot the answering smile, small as it may be, "Yes it has," blue eyes flicker to me and quickly lower away from my exposed body. If I wasn't embarrassed before, I certainly am now.


	15. cooking

_**I have no restraint... ":l So here's the next chapter... Maybe I'll update every weekday and not update on weekends? **_

_**cooking**_

Despite Momoi-san's giggling, Mrs T finally returns my shirt with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. I'm grateful, but that does not help the fact that Ace-sama is smirking and shaking his head at me. And, _damn it all to Hell_, Kuroko seems almost as embarrassed as I do. I've never dressed so fast in my life and I completely disregard the sweat, deciding I'll have to deal with that problem later. Showers are wonderful things…

For a moment I stand there awkwardly, my cheeks flushed and trying – and succeeding – to avoid Kuroko's gaze. The silence is broken by Mrs T who finds it appropriate to hustle the smirking Ahomine out of the way so she can embrace Momoi-san and drag her into the apartment building. Mrs T glances over her shoulder with a frown.

"Kuroko-kun, Kagami-kun, are you coming?"

"Hey! What about me?" The baboon squawks, face twisted in shock. Momoi giggles and Kuroko follows up with a bright smile, can't say I don't chuckle either.

Mrs T purses her lips and sighs, "I guess I can't do anything about _you_." She glances at Momoi, "Must I invite him in?"

The pink haired girl shrugs with a grin, "I don't know," there's a whined 'Hey!' from Ace-sama and more giggling from Momoi, "I guess we should,"

Mrs T nods and beckons for the boys to follow her. Aomine and Kuroko move forward, the artist pausing for a moment to look back at me. "Kagami-kun?"

"I'm…I'm just…" my face flushes red, I gesture toward my body and the shirt clinging to my chest. "I need to shower."

Kuroko seems to examine me, "I'm sure no one will mind."

I huff slightly and open my mouth to reply only my words are cut off by Momoi-san's reappearance. "Kagami-kun, Oba-chan wants you to help us with cooking lunch."

My mouth hangs open.

Slave driver indeed.

Kuroko slips past her and heads inside, leaving us alone. The girl gives a small smile. "I'm Momoi Satsuki, by the way, Oba-chan forgot to introduce us."

My mind whirrs frantically, it was the truth yet I could hardly tell her that I already knew. I'd seen her with Kuroko the other day, and Mrs T had spoken enough about 'Satsuki' that I felt like I knew her already. "I'm, ahh, Kagami Taiga-"

"I know," she interrupts and grins, flicking pink hair over her shoulder. "Kuroko told me about you,"

_I think I just had a heart attack._

"Dai-chan mentioned you too, although I'm sure he called you '_Tetsu's stalker'_ and not Kagami Taiga."

Yeah, a heart attack…


	16. a promise

__**Had comp problems yesterday. So double updates today :D**

_**a promise**_

I'll admit that Momoi-san's description of me – albeit it being Ace-sama's words – feels embarrassingly apt. Granted it only happens during morning runs. Not that I would ever say so aloud, Heaven forbid Kuroko's potential girlfriend finds out that I'm crushing on her boyfriend. I would happily die by alien abduction. I have no doubt that Momoi (as sweet as she looks) can be dangerous when provoked – especially if it comes to the pale artist.

I choke out something of a protest, hoping she can't hear the horror in my stuttering or see the panic on my face. Whatever she does hear or see must be amusing because she giggles and her shoulders shake slightly. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as her lips curl up.

"Calm down, Kagamin,"

I freeze willing only to focus on the name mispronunciation and pout a little. "It's _Kagami_,"

Another giggle, "I know," For a moment I'm stumped and evaluate the casual way she leans against the door. No imminent danger, she doesn't _seem_ mad… "Dai-chan doesn't like you, but then again he doesn't like anyone who pays Tetsu-kun attention. Ki-chan, on the other hand, _does_ like you; I trust Ki-chan's judge of character more than Dai-chan's, if only slightly." For some reason she shakes her head and sighs at this. "I've been informed by Akashi-kun that you've already been threatened and I'll leave such matters to him, he's rather persuasive. Ah, Mu-kun and Midorin, don't have much of an opinion about you, although Mu-kun mentioned you cook really well – so that's praise if I've heard any."

I blink repeatedly, still trying to come to terms with my new nickname, never mind deciphering the rest. _Dai-chan? Ki-chan? Mu-kun?_ _Midorin?_ Well, _Akashi-kun_ made sense…I wouldn't give that guy a nickname either. I shudder just thinking about him, talk about dynamite in small packages.

"What I'm trying to say is," Momoi takes a deep breath and I wonder if I should tell her to wait while I try to figure out her previous speech – I never get the chance. "I give you my blessing. I know that there is no shortage of protectiveness for Tetsu-kun and, therefore, I know that if you hurt him you'll be in a whole world of pain." She smiles brightly at this while I splutter.

"Blessing?" _Pain?_ I'm too confused and my mind is switching gears too fast for me to follow this craziness. "B-but," I shake my head and hold up a hand as if to hold off the next speech, "Aren't you and Kuroko…Y'know?" I make an awkward motion of two people embracing by entwining my fingers.

Momoi-san full out laughs now, "No, Kagamin, Tetsu-kun and I aren't," she repeats my hand gesture and flashes me a grin, while I turn bright red. "In fact Dai-chan and I are," again with the stupid hand gesture.

This time I'm too shocked to be embarrassed. My mouth drops open, "You and that Aho?" Assuming Ace-sama is this _Dai-chan_."But why?"

We must be speaking about the same baboon because her eyes widen at the nickname, but she continues to grin. "Dai-chan and I have been together since middle school, he's sweet behind all the whining." Her gaze turns sly, "You know, Tetsu-kun has never had a girlfriend and he's spoken quite a bit about you recently."

Is it possible to turn more crimson? It's probably not healthy. _Don't hope, baka!_ "I-I, ah, it's a coincidence."

"Of course it is." She giggles – she does that too much. "You have a crush on our Tetsu-kun," her proclamation is followed by a small squeal and dance motion.

Okay, _no_. I shake my head, "I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

I pause, _I'm not going to win am I?_ _Can I trust her?_ "You won't tell him?"

"No," she shrugs, "That's for you to do."

I nod hesitantly, "Promise?"

"Promise," a light pat on the shoulder follows.


	17. culture shock

_**culture shock**_

My legs buckle and I slump onto my bed with a groan of pain. I blame this entirely on Japanese culture. Whoever decided that sitting for an hour on my knees would be comfortable is a down right liar. They're all liars! Especially Kuroko, with the way he sat there all serene and composed and after the hour got up and bowed as if it was all good and fun; while _I_ stumbled and crashed into walls like a new-born calf with no control over his legs.

They fell asleep! It left me aghast, _my_ legs falling asleep? Nonsense, complete and utter nonsense! Not Kagami Taiga! I'm an athlete, I have morning jogs for _fun_, and my legs are used to the worst kind of torture. But apparently Japan has other ideas for my sanity and peace of mind.

Not to mention how much of an idiot I looked tripping around in front of Kuroko. Momoi helped not a bit by smiling when Ace-sama laughed, nor did Mrs T's mumbling about young men 'not being brought up properly' and 'not being able to sit as he should' help even a little. The artist surely believed me to be an incompetent Returnee.

I could just die of embarrassment. As it is, I shove my face into a pillow and whimper pathetically.

At the moment I never want to face Kuroko again, Momoi-san and Ace-sama too, maybe Mrs and Mr T for good measure. Just to cover all bases… By now the rest of the rainbow nation knows about it too. When I get to Uni on Monday Kuroko's friends are going to plague me with smug looks of knowing.

_Shit_, and Aomine will take great pleasure in making SM more crappy than usual for me. I don't even want to think of how Riko would respond, or the disappointment of Junpei-sensei's face…

That's it, "My life's over," I moan into my pillow, clutching it in my fists, somehow willing the soft, feathery interior to sap the pathetic-ness right from my life. It doesn't work, I still feel rather wretched. "I'll have to move again, Ma'll be so pissed." The revelation is enough for me to attempt to suffocate myself with said pillow. Needless to say it fails and I end my day with moping about the kitchen: my only hope being to cook something so Americanised that it ebbs away at the culture shock from earlier.

_Burgers for dinner once more…_ I sigh.


	18. game console

_**game console**_

Despite my dreariest fears, Ahomine doesn't have time to give me grief over what happened at Mrs T's place. Neither do I figure out if the rest of the rainbow parade has been informed of my embarrassing cultural adjustments as Munchies is absent from Teppei's sunshine lecture the next day. In fact I don't see Momoi-san, Kise-kun, Green-glasses, two-tone death glare or Kuroko in the following week. Although it stifles any agitation, it still manages to create a strange loneliness. The previous week had been so stifling with the amount of conversations and attention I'd received that this week felt particularly…boring, I guess.

So when the weekend approaches once again and Mrs T doesn't coerce me into manual labour once more, I'm left with very little to do as I'd completed all my study material after their respective classes. As much as my mind wants me to sit idly and simply wallow in the week's slow pace I know there are things I should get done anyway.

I start by unpacking the remaining boxes which are labelled _Free Time_ and _Boring_. I start with _Boring_, because I know if I start with _Free Time_, _Boring_ will never get done.

I'm correct it seems. _Boring_ is a tedious, time consuming box that has me wishing a meteor would come smashing into earth sometime soon to relieve me from organising its contents any longer. I manage to finish two cups of coffee and a fair amount of the soda stashed in the bottom of the fridge by the time I separate the copies of Uni enrolment forms from tax receipts and Notice of Residence for the states and Japan.

Finally I'm able to step away from the paperwork and grab a scissors to cut the _Free Time_ box from its duct tape restraints. I'm met with a tangle of cords belonging to an old game console and a half-decent DVD port. It's certainly more soothing than struggling through paperwork. By the time the devices are set up and I'm sure the right connections are connected to the right devices I'm ravenous and the thought of organising the scattering of videogames at the bottom of the box is incredibly unappealing.

I decide, instead, to do what any sane young man would do when he is a worn-out Uni student on the verge of starvation – I grab my keys, money and a jacket to fight off the night chill and make a B-line to the nearest Magi Burger.

My stomach growls as I step through the glass doors and the scent of fries and grilled meat hits me square in the face. Heavenly, my mouth almost waters yet I bite my lip in time to prevent any more embarrassing displays in public.

The girl at the counter gawks when I order 15 burgers and two sodas, but doesn't make any comment on my being alone – and wow that's really a lot of food for one person, are you sure there's not someone for you to share with? – and so naturally I leave her a tip for being somewhat nice to this lonely Uni student with no real friends. I even give her a grateful smile which she – Nanaba, her nametag reads – returns with a small flush, although that may just be discomfort at the weirdo ordering 15 burgers for himself on a Friday evening.

I gather my order and easily juggle it to a window booth, sliding into the seat with no poise and certainly without decorum. I'm already shoving a burger into my mouth by the time I glance up and instead of my eyes landing on an empty seat, they land on sky-blue eyes.

Sky-blue that eyes are gazing at me, with curiosity, over the top of a frosty milkshake holder.

I gulp down my bite of burger, well aware that there's sauce on my chin, and take a shallow breath, "Kuroko…"

There's an amused glint in artic-blue and the cocking of an artist's head, "Good evening, Kagami-kun,"


	19. a stack of boxes

_**a stack of boxes**_

"What are you doing here?" I crow loudly, delayed shock catching me badly, but all Kuroko does is glance around before settling his eyes back on me inquiringly.

"I like their milkshakes," he mentions simply and I slap a hand over my face.

"When did you get here?" I try with a soft whine, trying – unsuccessfully – to swipe the remaining traces of sauce from my chin. I must look like a complete caveman. _Damn it, Kagami, way to make an impression._

Kuroko's head tilts to the side and he takes a quick sip of his shake. "I was here all along, you just showed up. I was wondering if you weren't going to speak at all until just now."

I flush, he was here before me? So I just invaded his space and started stuffing my face…_how disgusting_. Guess I can't tell him I didn't see him either, can I? He'll be offended. I lower my eyes to my burgers and finger a box, before lifting them back to him. "Sorry, for bothering you."

Slim shoulders hike up and down in quick succession, Kuroko taps his fingers on the Styrofoam cup. "I don't mind. Aomine-kun and Momoi-san are having a Date Night. Akashi-kun, Kise-kun and Murasakibara-kun are all busy. Midorima-kun had promised to assist me in research for an assignment this evening, yet unfortunately Takao-kun fell ill during the week and so Midorima-kun is taking care of him."

I nod slowly, consciously making an effort to shut my mouth before an insect decides to enter it. This is the most I've ever heard the artist speak and although he's voice is as demure and quiet as before, I'm pleasantly surprised at the lack of concern for his circumstances in his voice. It makes me wonder how often he sits alone and drinks milkshakes on the weekends. I lick my lips nervously. "So you're not doing anything this- ah, tonight?"

A small smile and the fluttering of eyelashes, "No, unless you were planning to keep me company."

I nearly bite my tongue off in my haste to scream _YES_ at the top of my lungs. My heart is beating too fast and if I don't watch myself I might jump across the table and squish Kuroko to death in a hug. Instead, I take a deep breath and carefully start unwrapping a burger, pretending to think. I take a bite and plan on savouring the flavours; in its place I'm lost in imaginings. I swallow the food, "I've just finished setting up my game console and I still need to go through the games…" I pause in horror at my own words, that's not what I'd been getting at! It sounded like I was inviting him over to my apartment – _way to jump the gun, idiot!_

"I could assist you if you want."

I gape, burger forgotten in my wonder. "I mean- it's just that, it's by my apartment." The statement turns into an ashamed whisper at the end. I'm positive he isn't conceding to come to my place.

Kuroko nods, "I would think so." He looks so serious suddenly, as if my next words are the deciding answer to an important question. "Would you like me to come over? To help,"

"Yes!" I choke and shake my head, "I mean, ah, yeah, you can come over. That'd be nice. That is…If you want to."

He smiles, teeth and all. I nearly flip out my phone and take a picture, but then I'd surely be nothing except a perverted stalker. "I would."

"Just, just let me get a box for this," I gesture to the burgers.

Kuroko's face falls, "Were you meeting someone?"

"No!" I clear my throat and blush, "No, it's all for me actually, I- I eat a lot."

He snickers, actually snickers, and I flush deeper, "Oh,"

I nod and stand, making a show of telling him I'll be right back. I scramble to the counter and the girl from before smiles and she asks me if I need more burgers, I shake my head vigorously and ask for a packet for the burgers. Unfortunately the two she gives me isn't enough for all 13 and the stack of tiny boxes peak from the packets in my arms.

The artist buys another milkshake and we leave the restaurant in a comfortable silence.


	20. changes everything

_**…changed everything**_

Kuroko's hand tugs at my sleeve as we wait at the road crossing. It is light enough to ignore it, but the slight pressure makes my stomach clench and my mouth dry. It's just that he's so _close_.

"Kagami-kun, why did you come back to Japan?"

I look at him quickly before focusing my eyes back to the walking sign. I check for cars and start across the street, well aware of Kuroko's hand still at my sleeve. "How did you know?"

He replies with a low hum that sounds slightly amused. "When we first met, you wouldn't speak Japanese and when you did it was awkwardly, like you weren't sure if you were speaking properly." I blush at the reminder. "But you look Japanese, despite the red hair, but Akashi-kun has red hair too and he's Japanese. Although he is shorter; you _are_ oddly tall, Kagami-kun."

I chuckle lightly and grin, this boy keeps surprising me. "My mom's Japanese, but my dad's American. I used to live in Hiroshima before my dad was promoted with a company in the States. We moved there when I was still a kid,"

"You're a Returnee,"

"Ah, I guess I am," I grin awkwardly but it drops into a smile when Kuroko responds with a light snicker.

"You still didn't tell me why you returned though." Kuroko insist and stops my mount of burgers from toppling to the floor.

For a moment I remain quiet, my mind churns back and forth from silvery cuts on my thighs to hours of running to lose myself in the continuous motion of feet hitting the ground. Where do I start? _Do_ I even start? Do I really want to discuss the dark moments in my life with my potential crush? I frown. "It…it's a long story, a boring, depressing story."

Kuroko's hand reaches past the sleeve and curls loosely around my hand, he gives a squeeze and retracts the limb while my heart thunders. "If you ever want to talk about it, I have lots of time."

I glance down at him, my eyes meeting his artic blue orbs filled with concern and encouragement. I nearly blurt out the words, as an alternative I simper and I'm pretty sure my chest puffs out to twice its size. This kid…even if he never sees me as potential dating material, I'll take a friend like him any day. _You can't mess this up, Taiga. He's nothing like Tatsuya, but that's not a problem, you don't _need_ another Tatsuya, maybe _this_ is all you need. Maybe all you need is someone to squeeze your hand and tell you that you can talk when you're ready_.

"Thanks," I murmur.

The artist's eyes narrow into a relaxed station and his lips follow, "Any time, Kagami-kun,"

I stare at him for a moment longer than necessary, before he looks back up at me and questions, "You live close to Takumi-san don't you?"

I nod and glance to the road, "Yeah, we still have a bit to walk." Kuroko reaches out and squeezes my hand again before he starts walking. I wait a moment to compose myself – Kuroko could very well change everything.


	21. temptations

_**temptations**_

It feels strange (down right awkward) asking Kuroko to dig the apartment keys from my back pocket – obviously I blush and wonder whether this is a recurring thing and if I need to invest in some 'embarrassment diffuser' – but the artist does as requested without so much as batting an eye. His clear indifference to sticking his hand in my pocket should help me calm down; if anything it freaks me out further.

The delusional imagination that I have conjures a surprisingly long list of scenarios in which a simple key search turns into something much more M rated. Something along the lines of no clothes and plenty of touching certainly makes itself known. Granted, I _do_ feel disgraced at my line of thought, but Kuroko helps in no way by pouting as he struggles to find the right key. So technically it's _his_ fault the burgers are hiding a reaction that makes me want to sink into the ground.

"It's the key with the double head," I inform the artist with strain.

Kuroko nods and shuffles the keys before inserting the correct one in the door, the lock clicks and the door swings open under Kuroko's hands. "Forgive the intrusion," he steps in and instantly leans down to pull off his shoes.

I choke a sound of protest and the burgers topple precariously, "You don't need to take off your shoes,"

The artist glances over his shoulder and for a moment I can't breathe at the confusion marring his brow. He's so damn adorable… "Oh," he murmurs and straightens, "I'm sorry, I forgot that your customs are different,"

I shake my head, "It's fine. You can do it if you want to, but you don't have to. I can fetch you slippers if you'd prefer?"

Kuroko smiles that small endearing smile where the corners of his eyes crinkle, "If it's not a hassle."

I grin, "Not at all, just hold on a sec," I shuffle around him and dump the bags on a low table, "I'll just fetch them for you quickly." I turn and hurry across the dining room-slash TV room-slash lounge to get to my bed room. Once there I pause and take a deep breath, willing my heart to cool its erratic beating. I kick off my shoes, grab a pair of slippers and stop at the mirror for a moment to comb a hand through my hair – it's futile, the stuff stands on end like a cow's licked me up the wrong way. I scoff and ruffle the mess, it won't seduce Kuroko in the least, but at the most it's one of my better hair days. I practice a smile and roll my eyes before leaving the room.

"Here you are," I mumble and hand Kuroko the slippers, he smiles gratefully and leans against the wall to drag off his shoes, a small pout emerging for focus.

"Thank you, Kagami-kun,"

"Yeah, no problem," My voice sounds hoarse to my own ears. _Resist temptation, if he sees you staring he'll go running._


	22. suburban sprawl

_**suburban sprawl**_

Kuroko deceives me into believing his gaming skills are less than adequate, acting all confused and cute as he fiddles with the controller, before turning an 180ᵒ and completely crushing me. I'm left speechless to re-spawn alone in an abandoned building in the midst of a dilapidated suburban sprawl. The silent artist continues to run his character around screen like a pro, climbing up rafters and gaining the vantage spot over a complex block.

"_What_?" I mewl and throw my arms into the air in shock, turning an accusing glare to the blue-haired boy at my side.

Kuroko merely sends me a curious glance as he nibbles at the edge of the burger I handed him some 30 minutes ago. "You never asked me whether I was any good."

I groan and scrub my hands over my face, nearly getting a bruise when the controller bangs against my forehead. "That's not fair!" I bemoan and send the boy a pleading glance when he continues to nibble. "You should have warned me."

He shakes his head and blue hair falls over his eyes, "It's the element of surprise,"

"Kuroko-o-o~" I lament, dropping over to the side and letting my head bump against the top of his. Shit, he smells like the vanilla milkshake from earlier. I try not to make my sniffing too obvious as my nose presses against his hair.

His body shakes next to mine and the most beautiful song of chuckles reaches my ears. I try not to sigh, I truly try, but the sound escapes anyway and Kuroko's chuckles soften into soft gasps for breath. For the longest while we stay like this and I probably would have fallen asleep leaning against him, nose tickled by his hair if he waited any longer to talk.

"Kagami-kun, you're going to die again if you don't move your character soon,"

I lift my head and glare at the TV for daring to interrupt my happiness. My character is in fact about to die; clearly the evil, two-headed dogs, that someone must have set loose, can eat me as my character is already having an arm torn off by one of such creatures. I scramble for my controller and try my best to dislodge the animal as my health bar dwindles dangerously.

Kuroko laughs again, his character safe on the top of a building, gun at the ready should one of the beasts be clever enough to use the crumbling back stairs. He seems rather elated when I die a gruesome death and the game declares him the official winner, with more kills and less deaths.

I pout while the boy gives me a beaming smile, maybe I'm not as unhappy about losing as I made it seem.


	23. a portrait

**01:40...technically it's Monday :D How you all had lovely weekends! Thanks for the support thus far!**

_**a portrait**_

I'm not…_entirely_ sure how this happened. I know at one moment I'm cussing Kuroko's gaming abilities for the unnatural superpower it is and the next I blink and somehow I'm in the kitchen. I'm caught in the process of whipping up a vanilla shake while Kuroko is sitting absently at the counter with a spare sheet of paper and a pencil. Again, I'll state, I'm not entirely sure how this happened. Every so often Kuroko will tell me to pause or to move my head in a certain direction. "Don't frown so much, Kagami-kun" or "Brush your hair back quickly, Kagami-kun".

To put it mildly I'm certainly blushing the colour of ripe tomatoes. If Kuroko notices – ha, who am I kidding, of course he does, it's pretty hard to miss – he makes no comment, for which I'm beyond grateful. I've never been the subject of an artist's work – hell, I've never been the focus of pretty much anything except some bullying and a short-lived fame in High School in basketball.

The focused attention has me nervous and sweating beyond normal around Kuroko; not to mention that I'm thoroughly embarrassed and on the verge of messing up a _simple_, freaking _vanilla_ milkshake – for the third time this evening.

"Does Kagami-kun have siblings?" The artist inquires out of the blue.

Pausing for a moment, I wonder whether Tatsuya counts, "Ah, no, I've got a few cousins though. Do you have? Brothers or sisters, I mean,"

Kuroko shakes his head and makes a scribble on his page – why is he so adamant in not letting me see it? "I'm alone,"

His words give me pause and for a long moment I stare at the half-empty milk carton in thought. Kuroko doesn't sound, in the least, displeased at being 'alone' as he stated, but the mere fact that he looks so monotonous and uninterested leaves me worried that maybe there's something more to it. I bite my lip to keep from asking, he'll tell me if he wants me to know. "I see,"

"And Kagami-kun's parents? What are they like? Are they just as tall?"

A smile breaks across my face and I shrug, "They're okay, Ma's a free spirit, I got my red hair from her… dad is a bit crazy, I got my height from him, he's more obsessed with basketball than me."

Kuroko pauses and stares at me, "I like basketball. You play it?"

I flush, "Yeah, been playing since I could walk, dad made sure to play NBA reruns every Sunday afternoon. Basketball's in my blood," I flash Kuroko a pitiful simper and nearly melt when his expression softens and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"That sounds fun," There are undercurrents of wistfulness.

I snort, "Not when you're five and like talking animals singing stupid songs."

"I cannot imagine Kagami as a five-year old."

I belt out a laugh and struggle to finish making the milkshake, "I can't imagine you dribbling a ball across the court."

Kuroko puffs his chest out slightly, "I'll have you know that I can make Aomine-kun cry,"

My laughter dies into smirking titters, "I can fully believe that and hope to see it someday,"

"Good," the artist murmurs and taps the back of the pencil against the page, "I've finished the drawing." His voice drops into a barely there whisper, "Would you like to see?"

I stare at him for the longest time before grabbing the milkshake and making my way on shaky legs to the counter. I lick my lips and press the shake towards the boy, "I hope it's better than take-aways,"

His face lights up, even though he doesn't smile. He switches the drink for the paper and delicately sips on the straw while watching me finger the corner of the page. I flip it over, my eyes swinging from the artist to the art work. Breath catches in my throat. I knew he was good, but this is amazing. I feel like I'm staring into a mirror – except that my lips are tilted up at the corners and my eyes glimmer with an unfamiliar light. The portrait seems to bring me to life.

"Its…" I look back at him, lost for words.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah," I breath, my eyes glued to his, "Yeah, I do."


	24. science

_**science**_

He lets me keep the drawing.

Even when Kuroko leaves early into Saturday morning and the night is starting to die down for rest, I'm reluctant to say good-bye. Sleep evades me like a physical barrier lies between us. Kuroko on the other hand seems ready to fall over at any second. I'd like to say I'm a complete gentleman and offer to let him stay over – yet I can't, I know that I'm too weak and I don't want to take the chance that tonight I snap.

I do, however, refuse to let him walk alone. As I first thought, Kuroko lives on Teiko University's campus. I walk by his side, careful to straighten him when his steps waver. When we reach the gates, lights still shine from various windows, lighting up the pathway and making Kuroko's pale skin glow. We murmur our good-byes as if those inside could hear us, before Kuroko turns and leaves me standing there at the gate – crazy ponderings about kisses flashing through my head.

By the time I get back to the apartment, the night chill has set in and my skin prickles with the cold.

As I'd first thought sleep evades me. I toss and turn in my bed and later on the couch to no avail. My mind plagued with demure smiles and soft laughter. Memories of pink lips and vanilla milkshake; and, damn it, that unfished burger I had to throw in the bin because Kuroko said he was full after eating only half.

I groan and roll over, eyes opening to roam the empty lounge; where, what feels like minutes ago, Kuroko and I sat, shoulders brushing. The flashing of a small blue light catches my attention and I push myself up to reach for my abandoned laptop.

_Income call: Alex_

For a moment I consider ignoring it and facing her annoyance later. My fingers hover over the 'Decline' button for several seconds before I sigh and click on 'Accept' instead.

"_Taiga_~" Comes the singsong greeting and bright red lips appear on my screen.

"Alex, please don't make-out with the camera." I moan and rub a hand over my eyes.

"_Ah_," she grumbles and leans away so that I can see her face scrunching into a frown, "_Such an insolent child. How did I raise a Tsundere?_"

I give her my best droll stare. "You're not my mother,"

"_I might as well be!"_ She claims, throwing her arms in the air before leaning forward, her nose almost against the camera, "_By the way, why are you up so late? Don't you have school tomorrow_?"

I roll my eyes, "It's 2am and it is Saturday morning, Alex. Aren't you at work?"

"_Hm, lunch break_," She leans back and grins, shoving a plastic container of salad out like an offering. "_You never stay up this late though, even on weekends. Did you have friends over_?"

Pausing for a second, I tilt my head, squinting my eyes, "One friend, maybe…"

Her face lights up like Cony Island on a Friday night, salad forgotten. "_Oh! Oh! A girl-friend or a boy-friend?"_

The way she intones the 'friend' with a small smirk lets me know she's not inquiring after _friends_ at all. I purse my lips and shake my head in exasperation. "I told you about the artist, right?"

"_Holy shit!_" She shrieks and I jerk back from the computer in surprise. "_You guys…y'know?"_ She waves her hands around, but I get her drift.

I flush red, but quickly shake my head. "No, we're just…friends, at least I think I can call us friends."

"_Aw~_" she launches herself back and spins round on her swivel chair a few times before facing me with the widest grin, "_You're so cute!"_ She chuckles, "_You know how 'just friends' always turns out! One moment it's a game of basketball and the next the science gets too much and BOOM lo-o-ove!_"

I bite my lip and almost don't refrain from ending the call, "It's 'chemistry', not _science_, idiot."

She laughs and blows me a kiss, "_Same thing, Taiga~"_


	25. it is elegant

_**it is elegant**_

Elegant? No, certainly not. Most _inelegant_ actually. Which is why I feel robbed the moment Aomine gets past me with the ball. His moves are unpredictable and sharp, as if he can't decide on a direction to go in. He's good, great actually, but rough around the edges; which is how I get the ball back only moments later.

I'm well aware that we've been at it long enough to attract attention. At first it was merely Riko dragging Momoi to watch our game – I don't understand that friendship. The girls stand off to the side, heads bowed while Momoi scribbles in a small hand book and Riko makes extravagant gestures with her hands. Next to arrive, surprisingly, is Akashi. It occurs to me then, while the crimson-haired boy watches us critically that Ahomine is playing a little rougher, that he's more aggressive in stealing the ball away from me.

If Ace-sama's reaction to Akashi watching surprises me, then Midorima's sudden presence really makes me raise a brow. Ahomine is no longer playing as if this is merely a friendly basketball match between class mates; he's trying to annihilate me. He's showing off, for the _rainbow_ _nation_.

I would snort if my competitive side didn't kick in. Ahomine wanted to look better than me in front of his friends; fine, I'd give him a damn hard time doing it.

Our score keeps jumping from 2-3 to 5-3 and so on to 12-13 and 14-13 once again. Neither of us are winning, but that's okay, as long as the baboon doesn't win I'll be more than happy for a tie. At least that's how I feel until the moment I spot Midorima's raven friend cheering happily next to an impassive artist and a brunette who seems to be avoiding Akashi.

_Kuroko_… my mind supplies a million-in-one reasons for me to crush Aomine in that barest second it takes me to think the artist's name. For some reason I'm no longer content for a tie, I'm going to win.

But our scores don't budge; the baboon seems as intent to win as I do. The numbers climb as our audience grows. Junpei-sensei had left some ten minutes ago, claiming that class was over and he had better things to do than watch '_two thick skulled idiots' fight to the death'_. But the teacher's sudden absence did nothing to dissuade students from piling into the gym, choosing sides and cheering.

The ball brushes my fingers, echoing a dull thud against the floor.

"Kagami-kun!"

"Dai-chan!"

My breath stalls, the ball grazes my fingers. Ahomine is in the way. I jump, but so does him. Only I'm a little higher. The ball leaves my hand, flies through the air.

A smile twitches at my lips as feet land back on the ground. Out the corner of my eye I can see the barest of smiles gracing Kuroko's mouth.

_Score: 52-50_


	26. a house in the country

_**a house in the country**_

As much as Akashi terrifies me, I don't run when he approaches me after the game, more for the fact that I'm sure he'd track me down easily rather than because I have the courage to face him. I'll admit to shaking when his heterochromatic eyes land on me. Would it kill the kid to smile? Actually, no, I have the sneaking suspicion that his smile is as chilling as his glare – if not more so.

My hands twitch around my water bottle and Akashi's head tilts to the side, face unchanging.

"You did well, Kagami Taiga."

I don't appreciate the compliment as much as I should, mostly because I can sense a threat hidden beneath the smooth words. "Ah, thanks," I grumble, eyes glancing to the side in hopes that someone would notice my distress and save me.

"Tetsuya seems glad for your win." How can a voice so light and…well, _pretty_, sound so full of disappointment? I cringe. "It is rare for someone to beat Daiki; he is a tough competitor and seems most distressed at his loss." Those eyes dart to the side to land on Aomine in the distance, the man is snarling and snapping at the bubbly blonde model. Is this where Akashi kills me for hurting his friend's pride? I'm too young to die… "Although I will give due credit to Tetsuya, he is rather adept at seeking out brilliant lights."

I pause, _lights_? I reach a blank and purse my lips in confusion. "Um…"

"He has chosen well the second time as well," Suddenly the harshness of Akashi's gaze softens, not that I relax though; this could be a trick to get my defences down. "I look forward to seeing you and Tetsuya playing together. Please watch over him,"

When the red-head bows and turns away I'm left with my mouth hanging open, a mixture of confusion and incredulity clouding my mind.

"Kagami-kun, are you all right?"

My head snaps to the side and I focus on the petite artist with wide eyes. "I-I don't know,"

The smallest of frowns marrs the space between his brows, his lips thin slightly. "Did Akashi-kun threaten you again? I've told him to stop doing that to people."

"Ah, no," I quickly shake my head, my eyes flickering from Akashi who was engaging a blushing brunette in conversation back to Kuroko. "Actually…I think he was…being polite?"

The surprise on Kuroko's face is obvious, but it quickly melts into one of those 'everything will work out' smiles that he has. He takes my breath away. "Akashi-kun is a good friend, but very protective. He was raised to be the Akashi Company's head; at times that side of him can be too harsh. I'm glad he has taken to you though,"

"Taken to me?" I squeak, I feel that Kuroko has misinterpreted things, there's no way Akashi can like me even the slightest.

"Yes, he has an odd way of showing affection." Kuroko's lips twitch into a brighter smile. "Although, if he invites you to his house in the country, I suggest you decline."

I blink repeatedly, "What?"

"It's easier to hide bodies when there's no one around."


	27. law student

_**a law student**_

If Kuroko warning me about Akashi's potential ability to kill me doesn't scare me away, then Momoi-san's sudden appearance in Junpei's lecture the next day isn't about to either. What frightens me is Junpei's lack of concern for the addition to his class. Granted, Momoi's presence convinces Aomine to behave for once, so really, who could blame Junpei for wanting to keep her around?

What I figure is that Momoi is Aomine's better half, and not just in the cliché romantic way either. She is literally better. The pink haired girl manages to answer most of the questions Junpei directs at the students. Her words don't falter once and at some point she even manages to argue Junpei into agreement on a point she'd made. With Riko's firm backing, might I add.

To put it simply, she made me – I think, most everyone else in the class as well – feel inferior. By the end of the lesson, which seemed to fly by, I feel like I'm sitting in the wrong class. _I must have gotten the wrong lecture hall,_ I reason, this is some advanced class that happens to have students looking exactly alike to those in my usual class.

I put my books away and mope from the class, head hanging. I don't get very far though.

"Kagamin, wait up!" My steps falter and I consider going on my way, but the part of me that respects Momoi for her intelligence instead of being jealous, keeps me standing still. Pink hair pops into my vision, followed by the brightest smile in all of Japan – I kid you not. The girl curls an arm around mine and I start in panic. Momoi laughs. "Don't worry, Dai-chan had to stay and talk to Jun-sensei."

My cheek twitches at the additional nickname for Junpei, I'm sure he appreciates it as much as I do mine. "Nothing too bad, I hope?" _Lord, _please,_ let Aomine be in trouble_…

"Guilty until proven innocent," is all she says and I snort.

"Are you a law student?" Although, by the way she was going on I could almost assume she's a SM major.

"Oh no, I could never be a lawyer," she does that giggling thing again, which I find pointless as there's nothing funny about it. Momoi _could_ be a lawyer… "I'm doing Business Management,"

This throws me for a loop, I cock my head. "Business?"

"Can't you just imagine me in beautiful blouses, bossing around adoring employees?" She waves a finger around as if scolding an imaginary person, again with that smile, "But, yes, the same as Akashi-kun,"

I cringe at the mention of the dangerous red-head, "That _must_ be a fun class,"

She giggles some more, "As fun as business will ever be, I'm afraid." She falls silent and squeezes my arm; I almost forgot she was holding it in the first place. She stops walking and I follow. "You know, Dai-chan might act all tough and mean, but he's really nice. He taught Tetsu-kun to shoot hoops and he loves playing with Nigou. He takes me on dates to fancy restaurants, even though he has to struggle with his boss for weekends off. Ki-chan looks up to him like a brother. Sometimes he'll sneak Mu-kun sweets when at Midorima-kun's house." Momoi looks up at me, her eyes large and wet, brimming with emotion. "He doesn't mean to be horrible to you. Dai-chan loves Tetsu-kun so much, they're very close." She nibbles on her bottom lip, "He just wants to protect Tetsu-kun, so please don't let his rudeness scare you away. It would hurt Tetsu-kun more than Dai-chan knows."

**Enjoy your weekends :)**


	28. sick in bed

**The irony is I just got sick myself :( Hope you had a good weekend.**

_**sick in bed**_

It hits me from all direction, taking me by surprise. A sudden whirlwind throws me belly up and upside down all at the same time. The world spins madly; my stomach follows its lead without caution. The little I managed to force down my throat for breakfast crawls its way back up.

_I hate being sick._

Well, I guess most people do. There's no fun in a pounding head or coffee sloshing back up the way it came. And, _damn_, the breathing! I can't close my mouth for a second because my nose refuses to co-operate with the rest of my nervous system. Every moment is a struggle. I don't have merely enough tissues and toilet paper to make it through the next two hours, never mind the day.

These are the only moments I wish I were back in the States, where I'd have my mom or dad or perhaps even Alex only a call away. Just _someone_ to get me more tissues or to fetch some flu meds from the pharmacy, maybe even to wake me up and check that I'm still breathing. It sure feels like I'm at Death's door.

It was difficult enough climbing from bed to force myself into the bathroom, then the journey to the kitchen, because maybe, _just maybe_, a shot of caffeine will chase the nausea and dizziness away. It didn't. The only alternative would be to climb back into bed, so I did, only to realise that I occasionally forgot to breathe.

There aren't many people whose cell phone numbers I've accumulated since arriving here, mainly just the landlord, Mrs T and Kiyoshi-sensei. None of which I'd find joy in coming to see me looking like the walking dead. Sadly, I realise, I don't have any friends; I have acquaintances, sure. But friends? _Nada, zilch, zero_… Not even Kuroko can really be counted as a friend; we've what…spoken all of five or six times – nine, but who's counting – and shared accumulatively about perhaps 1 000 words.

With a pained groan I cast a wary eye over to my bedside table on which lies a small, metallic phone. Well, assuming the situation and that I _seriously_ need a little help, it couldn't hurt to assume one of the people whose number I have would help me a little.

It's a real mission and a half to reach for the phone and grasping it even more so. I won't even try to explain my problems in trying to work the touch screen in my current state. Least I mention how I couldn't locate the contact list no matter how much I squinted.

Eventually, after what seems like years, I come across something resembling _Takumi-san_ on the phone's screen. With a drained sigh, my finger smudges over the call button twice before the thing decides to comply with my madness and dial Mrs T.

The dial tone sounds like the blaring of sirens in my ears. Days pass as I wait; I think I might have fallen asleep at one point.

When suddenly, "Hello? Kagami-kun? Are you there?"

I sigh in relief, or try to anyway, it sounds more like a dying whale, "Takumi-san…I need your help,"


	29. garden spirit

**It's winter here *shivers*, but I love it...**

_**a garden spirit**_

Mrs T promised to send assistance, as she was doctoring Mr T who had fallen ill as well. It's quite possible that she was lying as I heard a perfectly normal sounding complaint coming from Mr T in the background. Not that I cared, if she was sending help that was good enough for me, I wasn't expecting much anyway. I'm merely glad that someone would be here to bring me more tissues, maybe switch on the heater too – it's suddenly bone chillingly cold in my room.

I'm pretty sure an hour or two passes, because I fall asleep and wake up to insistent knocking at the door, only for it to fade away and sleep to reclaim me. When I eventually return to the world, it's with the crack of an eye taking in the slither of light coming through my bedroom door. It still takes me a minute to notice the moving shadows around me. Well, _one_ moving shadow as it is.

"Oh, Kagami-kun, you're awake."

I blink once, and again and again. The fog of my mind struggling to soak in the sudden shock of pale blue hair and eyes. Only one word comes to mind, "Kuro…ko?"

A cool hand presses against my forehead and an involuntary sigh leaves my lips, although I feel like I'm freezing, the coolness of his palm is soothing. There's the slightest sound of a hum, "Takumi-san asked Momoi-san to come nurse you, but she had a class today. I came instead. The landlord leant me a spare key. Is that okay?"

I make a chocking sound as consent, still struggling to believe Kuroko is in my apartment, my room, right next to my bed with his hand pressed to my skin. "Thanks," although the word sound more like a slurred rendition of 'spanks'.

Another hum, "You seem to have a fever, I'm going to contact Midorima-kun. He'll know what I must do. Rest for a while longer," His hand disappears and I groan in protest, despite my eyes already closing.

It could be only seconds, my eyes just closed I swear, when Kuroko is back at my side, gently shaking my shoulder. "Kagami-kun…Kagami-kun, you need to sit up."

A low whine emerges from my throat, a sound I might have been embarrassed by had the situation been different. Despite my protest, Kuroko wrestles my torso up the bed and shoves pillows behind my back. He tucks the blankets back around my body and perches on the side of the bed. "Midorima-kun suggested I feed you chicken soup and dry toast, I am also to keep you warm. There some pills for you to drink once you've eaten."

"Not hungry," I grumble.

Kuroko tsks, "You should do as Midorima-kun says, Kagami-kun, he is studying medicine,"

I attempt to roll my eyes but the world tilts dangerously, "That garden spirit a _doctor_?"

For a moment Kuroko is still and the implications of what I'd just said beings to sink in. Before I can start mumbling apologies though Kuroko bursts into laughter, his shoulders shake and his eyes close as he presses a hand over his mouth.

A small unsure smile cracks across my own lips.


	30. privacy

_**privacy**_

It's…nice having someone to look after you, especially when that someone's your crush. I do advise against being ill though. It's one thing to have a cough, but something entirely different to sweat, sneeze and fall all over the place. Granted, Kuroko hardly reacts to my dripping nose and the sweat on my brow, he dabs at my face with a cool cloth and wipes at my nose when I can't bother to move my arms from under the blanket. Not that his lack of reaction keeps me from turning redder, than a mere fever allows, in embarrassment.

The kid's kind enough not to tell me how much I stink although I'm pretty sure it's getting bad. He does, however, offer to run me a bath 'to help with the fever' apparently. Clearly he means to run me a bath and leave me to wallow in my ill privacy, but if my brain was bad when healthy…let's just say that delirium adds fuel to a forest fire.

I'm practically undressing the artist in my mind before I realise that: one, I'm a hallucinating idiot; and two, Kuroko is probably smart enough to stay well away from someone _this_ ill.

The bath is surprisingly nice, although it's embarrassing how much I struggle to get undressed and not to mention how long it takes me to come to terms that, _yes_, I'm naked one room away from the gorgeous sky-eyed artist who is completely _not_ naked.

I'm ashamed to be alive.

By the time Kuroko calls through the door to check that I didn't drown myself in my half-comatose state, I've come up with at least five solid plans to keep my mind from wandering how he looks under his clothing. They're fool proof; even a meat head like Aomine could succeed. So when Kuroko asks if I need help climbing from the bath I almost chortle madly at the mere thought. _No, I don't need help_, I inform him, even though my body feels too heavy to lift from the water and I'm pretty sure there are figures dancing in the bath's swirling mist.

I stumble around, my feet threatening to slip from under me. Eventually I get my hands on a towel and manage to wrap it haphazardly around my hips. It's all I can manage before my shoulders slam into the bathroom door and my knees buckle, the world swimming around my head in a confusing blur of cold and hot.


	31. cantankerous old

_**cantankerous old …**_

When my eyes peel apart it's to the wondrous sight of pale blue. At first I'm not entirely sure what the blue is, that is until the moment a gentle voice calls my name. Even then I'm slightly fuzzy on the details, _what's an angle doing in my apartment and why do I feel like I'm lying on the floor? Did Alex try to get me drunk again?_

A whine of protest works its way up my throat and the angel moves slightly back. The angel is in fact _not_ an angel, but an _artist_. It is an artist with the most beautiful artic-blue eyes I've ever seen, but why are they brimming with concern? I want to tell the kid not to worry, but the only thing that happens is I groan in pain and I realise, that _yes_ someone must have attacked me and shoved a fork through my frontal lobe.

"Kagami-kun, please stay calm, I've called Takumi-san. She has an emergency medical kit and is on her way."

"Wha…?" I blink lazily up at Kuroko; he's so pretty, even with all that worry in his eyes.

"You hit your head when you fainted, it doesn't seem bad, you might have a bruise later, but there is a small cut on your head and I'm afraid I don't take all too well to blood, so I called Takumi-san and she promised to be here as soon as she possibly could and I've been too afraid to move you until she gets here, so I might have to fetch a blanket to cover you when she arrives-"

"Ah," I grumble and lift a hand to wave off his rambling. Honestly, I understood about only 15% of his words. What I certainly did understand though was that I'm currently sitting in a towel waiting for Mrs T to come patch me up. Is it really necessary to be naked in front of the nice, old neighbour – who just happens to be Momoi's grandmother? No! "Can…me a pant?" I cringe and Kuroko catches my fluttering hand. "Can you please get me a pair of pants?"

His face blanches and he grips my hand tighter, "You really shouldn't move until Takumi-san gets here."

I hush him in a way I'd find detrimental to any relationship, but at the moment I really just need a pants. "I'd rather not be naked…" He pauses a moment, cheeks turning a pale pink before he gives a firm nod and scurries to get me something to wear. He returns in record time with the pyjama pant that was lying on top of my dresser, waiting to be packed away. Awkward and terrible as it is, Kuroko tries to help me pull on the cloth, all the while struggling to keep the towel from falling from my hips.

By the time there's a knock on the door we're both considerably flushed and refuse to look one another in the eye, but at least I have some clothes on. I'd rather not mention when the towel almost slipped completely nearing the end.

Mrs T has seen me without my shirt before so I doubt my bare chest was going to give her a heart attack. The woman bursts into the bathroom in a flurry of pink and blue material, Kuroko following closely at her heels, eyes still averted to the ground. "Oh my! I'm sorry I took so long, dear. My husband, that cantankerous old fool, couldn't stop jabbering on about the pain in his hip!" She huffs, "Don't you start complaining about aches and pains just yet, young man. There are many more things for you to do before you start. I want grandchildren!"

I'm not sure who is redder, Kuroko or me…


	32. jewellery

_**jewellery**_

Between Mrs T and Kuroko I am placed safely back in bed with little difficulty. I could have walked on my own, despite what happened before, my legs felt stronger than when in the bathroom. Only, Kuroko trusted me naught and Mrs T seemed to be taking his side on things. I seem to be seeing a pattern here.

Once safely tucked under the covers, both artist and neighbour set to work fussing over me. Although I'll admit to a headache and the general symptoms of any cold, I refuse to believe the amount of medical equipment extracted from Mrs T's bag is in any way practical. What is she going to do, brain surgery? I don't open my mouth to complain though, I've been scolded enough on the trip from bathroom to bed to try my luck again.

"So I said to him," Mrs T prattles to Kuroko sitting in a chair across the room, while she dabs at the cut on my temple. "'Don't you dare touch my granddaughter!'" Kuroko hums to indicate that he's listening, "But he didn't listen and he keeps coming back. The boy has no manners!"

I see the artist nod in my peripheral vision, "Aomine-kun has a hard time differentiating between manners and what he wants,"

I snort.

Mrs T sighs, "I was so hoping she would fall in love with you instead, Kuroko-kun." There's the slightest pinking of Kuroko's face, it might just have been the lighting, actually. "There was a point in time I almost believed you two were going to be a couple." Another forlorn sigh and Kuroko lowers his head as if to examine his shoes. "But I guess it cannot be helped. Yet!" Kuroko and I jump at her sudden exclamation, "There may be hope yet! Kagami-kun, you don't like the boy either do you?"

Cautiously, with a worried glance in Kuroko's direction, I murmur, "Not really, I mean, he plays basketball really well."

It's my neighbour's turn to snort, "Sport does not make the man. Hmm, but you're rather tall and talented; muscled, but with more brain than that monster my precious Satsuki is dating…how do you feel about pink?"

"W-what?" I splutter in shock.

"Satsuki rather likes pink. She likes jewellery too, nothing too chunky though, the fine, delicate pieces. It suits her, like a princess. You should try getting her something nice and small at first. Don't overdo it, she'll notice,"

"Wait!" I try to shake my head but Mrs T is gripping my chin too hard.

"Oh, and popsicles, watermelon flavoured of course, not the strawberry. She'll definitely like you if you share one with her."

"No, I don't-"

"Don't forget to open doors for her, she's a sucker for chivalry."

"I'm not-"

"And don't shovel down your food; she was raised with good table manners."

"I'm gay!" I squawk at the top of my lungs.

For once Mrs T doesn't talk over me. Silence fills the room and I duck my head, well aware that both Kuroko and my elderly neighbour are staring at me. Time ticks by painfully, my chest aches with a new pain.

"Well…now I've lost all hope. All the nice boys like boys these days, if only Aomine liked boys too, he'd leave my Satsuki alone."

**Thank you, all you lovely followers and reviewers! Enjoy your weekends everyone!**


	33. more than expected

_**more than expected**_

Her reaction is more – or well, _less_ – than I expected. It's a nice change from demeaning laughter and insults or disgusted sneers. Despite this, the fear in my chest and the pain along with it melt away in a bubble of laughter. The shock of the situation forces me to forget momentarily that Kuroko is in the room and I'm laughing at myself.

Gosh, I'm not really _gay_, I'm bisexual. The distinction doesn't really matter to me in this moment though as I have no interest in dating Momoi-san and all the more interest in dating a certain blue haired artist. At this time sexual orientation clarification can wait. I'm immersed in the reality of what I've just done and basking in the minute happiness that comes with acceptance.

It doesn't matter to Mrs T whether I like boys or girls; she rolls her eyes at me and continues to doctor my head as if dealing with an unruly child. "Really, you silly child, why hadn't you said so earlier? I wouldn't have wasted my time trying to sell you on the idea of dating Satsuki, if I knew earlier I could have spent this time pushing you toward my dear Kuroko-kun."

I choke on my dying giggle and from across the room there's an equally worrying sound of dispute. Kuroko has bleached of all colour and his hands hover slightly in the air as if trying to grasp Mrs T's words and be rid of them.

"Oh, now that I think about it, that's a rather good idea!"

From across the room Kuroko and I stare at each other and Mrs T. A long moment passes before Kuroko pushes to his feet and his face is terrifyingly blank. "Takumi-san, please watch over Kagami-kun, I must be heading out now, I have classes to prepare for." He drops his head in a quick, stiff bow before effectively running from the room.

My mouth hangs open, a protest for his departure hanging on the tip of my tongue while at the same time fear blocks up my throat. What could I possibly say to the kid? All I'll do is scare him further.

"Dear me," Mrs T murmurs staring after the artist, "I really put my foot in it now, didn't I?"

**Sorry if Mrs T starts turning British-y, been watching Sherlock and all I can do is see Mrs Hudson when I think of Takumi-san… **


	34. at the top

_**at the top**_

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of sleep, delirious mumbling and the occasional visit from Mrs T to check whether I'm still living. Darkness grabs me for random intervals, throwing me through fitful sleep and confusing dreams. I wake more tired than when I fell asleep. Thankfully the fever goes down though and after some time my mind settles enough for me to dwell on the happenings of this afternoon. Considering the line of thought, I might deal better with a fever.

When night falls, I'm wide awake with a Tupperware tub of Mrs T's 'special' chicken soup – whatever that means – left to cool down at the side of my bed. I'm tempted by my heavy limbs to stay in bed and rest, but my mind is fully active and jumping around the room a mile per minute. As if ends up, the soup turns from warm to freezing in the time it takes me to determine that I'm actually hungry. I'm forced to leave the comfort of my bed, to the detriment of my soul weary body and the delight of my overactive brain, in search of the kitchen to reheat the meal.

I watch brilliant green numbers flicker across the face of the microwave – 13…12…11… My body insists on leaning against the counter for support while all my attention lies focused on the white noise of the buzzing machine.

I press the _STOP_ button one second before the timer goes off, feeling a measure of accomplishment for evading the annoying din of the end buzzer. The bowl and a spoon find their way into my hands. I'm magically teleported to the couch and before I know it the Tupperware is empty and I'm half hanging off the couch, drooling in my sleep.

Dragging myself into a sitting position I rub my face until my eyes can force their way open in the darkness.

There are fragments of a dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness. Something to do with zombies and pasta? I might be wrong, but I'm sure Kuroko and I are stranded on an island. There was a plane crash and now were surrounded by zombies or vampires, I'm not too sure which – they're trying to eat us is all I'm certain of. I think Murisakibara is their leader. There is definitely pasta, only I'm not sure how it ties in with the flesh-eaters.

We're playing basketball, only a fence separates us from the zombie-vampires. The pasta is balancing on the top of the fence. I think Murisakibara wants it, for some reason Kuroko refuses though. Why can't we just give him the stuff? Surely he'll call off the flesh-eaters if we do…

Damn it, what's with the bloody pasta?

I groan and lie back, my eyes staring at the darkened ceiling.

"I'm losing my mind."


	35. child of mine

_**child of mine**_

Blissfully the flu wears off in under two days; I thank my fast metabolism for this. With its departure returns something that I've sorely missed – my appetite. I scavenge through all the cupboards and draws in my kitchen pulling out food I didn't know I had and others that were meant to be kept for special occasions. Everything makes its way into my mouth; whether raw, cooked or still partially frozen.

By the time the clock hits two in the afternoon, I've eaten half the food I have in the apartment and my jaw aches from having chewed so much. My stomach threatens to burst at the same time the last cup of instant ramen tries to wriggle its way back out. But I've not been happier in days…no, I lie. I was plentiful happy when Mrs T accepted my sexuality, yet that occasion is dimmed by the horror that – oh shit – Kuroko now knows and he probably hates me.

_He ran out so fast_, my mind supplies in pained awe.

Still, I try not to dwell on it; the situation brings about tense stomach muscles and nervous behaviour. With the currently trying-to-escape ramen…nerves are not an option.

Thudding around my apartment in order to clean up the mess I've made of the place in my sickness fogged mind, I could hardly expect a visitor on this Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow I head back to class and face Riko's inquisition. Only…there is a knock on the door.

I'm grateful for my sudden desire to clean, because when I open the door to see candy apple red hair and mismatched eyes, it's obvious to say I nearly die in shock. What's clearly more shocking is the nervous brunette standing next to Akashi – wasn't he the kid with Kuroko the other day? I didn't really think the death-glare giver would have any friends beside the rainbow nation.

"Akashi," I say somewhat reluctantly, my eyes flicker between the red head and brunette. Shit, Akashi better not be here to ask me to help dispose of this nervous kid. I'm too young to be part of manslaughter and not to mention how pissed Kuroko would be…if he ever spoke to me again. "Fancy seeing you here."

The red head sighs, his eyes in half mast while he stands formally with his hands positioned behind his back. "Good afternoon, Kagami Taiga. We're sorry to intrude; I've heard you were ill."

I have the sudden need to ask if he was poisoning me, but bite it back in favour of a sheepish: "Yeah, just recovering,"

Akashi nods his head, "That's good to hear." He turns his head slighty and motions to the brunette, "Let me introduce you to Furihata Kouki, he is a friend of Tetsuya's and the boy I am currently courting."

My eyes nearly bug from my head – _courting? As in balls and flowers and horse rides around the park? _And yes, I _did_ watch Pride and Prejudice.

"Akashi-kun~" The brunette – Furihata Kouki – groans and presses his hands to his face, "I told you to stop saying that,"

Akashi looks less than impressed, "_Seijurou_, Kouki,"

Furihata turns several shades of red; he splutters and focuses on his clenched hands, "_Please_, stop saying that…Seijurou."

The redhead gives a dazzling, pleased smile; an expression warm and kind enough to indicate that this Kouki was indeed _very_ special to Akashi. "I will consider it." He turns back to me, the smile fading, but the light from his talk with Furihata lingering in his mismatched eyes. "Now for business, I need to speak with you about my child."

"_What_?" I splutter, jaw dropping and brows rising to my hairline. Akashi has a kid? How's that even…probable?

"Ah," Furihata interjects quickly, cheeks still lingering in shades of pink. "S-Seijurou means Kuroko-kun,"


	36. rabid dog

_**rabid dog**_

Reluctantly I let Akashi and Furihata enter, I still have a sneaking suspicion that Akashi may attempt to kill me, but for some reason I doubt he'll attempt anything like that with the brunette close by. For Furihata's presence I'd beyond grateful.

My efforts for my somewhat unwelcome guests actually surprise me. Soon we're sitting with drinks and nibbling quickly whipped up tomato sandwiches – well, Furihata nibbles, I'm still full from earlier and much too nervous, while Akashi simply keeps giving more food to Furihata whenever his food diminishes in the slightest. Oddly enough Akashi reminds me of a keen mother intent on keeping her child fed, Furihata makes no mention of the treatment – it must happen often.

"I've mentioned to you my terms for your attempts at courting Tetsuya, Kagami Taiga-"

"Seijurou! Stop using that word," Furihata intercepts with a small frown, his tone pleading. "People don't use that in the 21st century,"

Akashi frowns slightly and flashes Furihata a glance, "What would you have me call it then, Kouki?"

For a moment Fuihata splutters and his eyes try to focus on anything except Akashi. "W-wooing?" It comes out more of a question than a statement, but Akashi seems to take the suggestion seriously and he gives the brunette an affectionate look.

"Very well then. Kagami Taiga, you know my terms for wooing Tetsuya, correct?"

"Ah," I pause, wandering whether Furihata knows about the death threats. "I think I got it,"

"Good, then we may start. Kouki, if you please?"

The brunette flashes a small smile and scoots forward; he places his plate on the coffee table although Akashi grunts in disapproval as he's just filled it back up. "I have known Kuroko-kun for many years now, so has Aka-Seijurou. We've always known him to be dispassionate and meek, with a very mild personality – almost invisible at times. Yet," Furihata's gaze swings to Akashi momentarily before coming back to focus on me. "Recently, he has been more expressive in his actions and emotions. I'd like to believe it's because he has found inspiration." His face quickly turns sour, "_Akashi_-_kun_," he stresses, clearly on purpose, "Believes Kuroko-kun has always been expressive, yet has chosen not to show it to anyone – not even his friends it seems."

"A logical conclusion from a childhood friend," Akashi says in all seriousness.

Furihata rolls his eyes, but his lips quiver with the beginnings of a smile. "Anyway, we've dallied at the possibility that you are affecting him."

"I haven't done anything wrong!" I say fast, eyes boring into Akashi in worry.

"Of course not," Furihata laughs and it makes Akashi's own lips curl slightly, "In fact, you've done something right."

"I have?" I highly doubt it…

"Yes," Akashi interjects, "Whereas Tetsuya's first light," Again with that _light_ stuff…"Daiki, behaved like a rabid dog that attacked and snarled at the slightest provocation; you, Kagami Taiga, seem to handle Kuroko with care and genuine interest. It has come to my attention that perhaps this is what Tetsuya has needed all along: someone who will tease and bond with him, yet at the same time take precious moments to attend to his human nature as none of us ever had the time or ability to."

I frown, the words might light up my chest in pride, but it bothers me still. "Why me?" I shake my head, adding bitterly "It doesn't matter anymore, he probably hates me now."

Akashi's eyes gleam dangerously, "Tetsuya did not choose you only to give up. His will is strong, he will remain your shadow until the day you no longer need _each other_. And right now, Tetsuya needs _you_."

**:) :D :D :D :D :D ;D**


	37. sanity

_**sanity**_

I'm tempted to forget all about Akashi's surprise visit the very moment he sets foot out my door. There's a high possibility that I've imagined his and Furihata's reassurances, that my mind neatly formulated what it wanted to hear. I don't trust myself enough to react to their words just yet.

Yet a thought does plague me. Clearly Akashi and Furihata had not just chosen a random time to visit, why would they? It must have been planned or at least spurred on. Did they know about the incident of my blurted sexuality? Were they aware that this could cause a rift between Kuroko and myself? Was that the reason for their visit, was Kuroko reacting to the news negatively?

I grumble a protest to myself and slump back into the apartment.

I know when tomorrow comes I'll have the clear possibility of running in to Kuroko, that is if he isn't intent on avoiding me. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, yet there's a part of me that believes better of the boy. I haven't known Kuroko for years and maybe my crush was born mostly from admiration of his artistic abilities and his cute blushes, but I have the sudden feeling that maybe…_maybe_ things would be all right. Kuroko isn't going to hold this over my head, he's going to accept me and ignore Mrs T's ribbing good naturedly.

Despite all the possibilities the firm belief that Kuroko won't shun me like the rest settles itself deep in my heart. If I never get the chance to explore a romantic relationship with Kuroko, perhaps it'll be okay to be just friends. What do we really know about one another that anything serious could evolve anyway? One night of endless chattering hardly means we're destined to be together – and sure I know of his vanilla shake obsession, but possibly everyone he knows does too.

I press my fingers against my temples and frown for a moment before letting out a deep sigh and letting my expression melt. "It'll work out the way it should," I murmur, opening my eyes and focusing a considerably calmer gaze on my neat apartment. "Friends," I try the word out, "Maybe I should start with being friends first, romance can come later if it's possible. Yet for now, for now friends sound mighty fine an idea."

With a firm nod and a silent vow to myself I rush to the bedroom – the only room still to be cleaned up – my mind focused on only one task. With some difficulty I rumple through my things, shoving past old birthday cards and scribbled notes from old friends. Until finally, finally, my fingers curl around a worn metal ring, still attached to the broken chain I'd set it on years ago.

For a long moment I stare at the metal. "I'm going to have to lend your strength again, Tatsuya." My hand closes over the object and slowly a grin blossoms across my face.

I never would have seen myself digging up this ancient treasure, but as I loop the chain around my neck – making a mental note to get the chain repaired – it seems the sanest thing to do. Tatsuya was my closest, if not only, friend; what better symbolism to use for my coming battle?

**I just wanted to thank everyone who is reading and reviewing or simply reading silently from the shadows. I appreciate the support! Everyone have an amazing weekend and I'll see you again on Monday :3**

**Recommended reading for AkaFuri supporters: Need you Now by Taiga Scarlett**


	38. walk in the park

_**walk in the park**_

Monday morning I'm up and buzzing with energy before my alarm goes off – I have a morning class today and never before has the darkened sky looked so inviting. I gulp down a mug of coffee, half scalding my tongue in haste, at the same time attempting to comb my hair and shove my feet in my trainers. Strangely a grin is plastered across my face as I fix my laces, despite my tongue feeling swollen ad leathery in my mouth.

I take the stairs down two at a time, nearly slipping on the second last before regaining my balance and launching into a jog.

Vaguely I wonder whether the purple titan – Munchy Man – will be out and about this morning. When I pass by the closed candy store and there's no purple hair, I have my answer. Yet my mind is focused elsewhere, I'm determined to find Kuroko and talk things through with him. I can only hope that he is inspired enough to be painting among the flowers this morning.

My blood rushes in my veins, excitement and anxiety merging into a chaotic mess of emotional weight. Whatever happens when he sees me, I want to do this, I _need_ to.

Finally the familiar view of Sakura trees and wild flowers meets my eyes and my gait slows to a crawl. I'm suddenly nervous, my hands twitching at my sides, my skin feeling oddly cold despite how overheated my chest is from the exercise. I can hear the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears. "You can do this, Taiga," I motivate, taking the last few steps forward, past the only tree blocking my view of Kuroko's spot.

I'm mildly glad to see a shock of arctic, pale hair bent over a canvas; even more so terrified, because what if I'm wrong about Kuroko? _No, no, I should have more faith in my…friend, he's my _friend_, I should have some faith in him._ I lick my lips nervously and step closer, my shadow momentarily passing over him before I move from the light. "H-hey, Kuroko, nice morning isn't it?"

For a moment Kuroko doesn't move, his hand suspended in the air. When his hand lowers my eyes follow and I'm shocked to see that the canvas is completely blank. No a single mark mars the pale surface and it somewhat scares me. "It's actually rather cool this morning, Kagami-kun," Follows the demure reply.

When I allow myself to look up at his face it's to meet confused blue eyes, blanketed in the fading vestiges of sleep. My cheeks burn, I'm not too sure why. "Ah, is it?" I mumble.

Kuroko blinks and gives a small nod, his fingers reaching up to fiddle with the fabric of his jacket. "Yes, I assume you don't feel it as you were running,"

I clear my throat, lifting a hand to stroke the back of my head, "Jogging actually…" I trail off and for the longest moment we are silent. I clear my throat again when it's clear Kuroko isn't going to speak. "Listen, I'm sorry about…" the words catch in my throat and instead of elaborating I fall silent, glancing around fretfully.

"There's no need to apologise, Kagami-kun," I stuck in a breath at his softly spoken words, "We are who we are and friends should never condemn one another for it. Who you like is who you like; I will not look on you ill for it."

I stare at him in mute admiration, joy and respect heating my chest like corndogs in July. "I…ah, thanks, Kuroko." I bite my lip, "Thanks,"

Kuroko smiles, "We are friends, friends look after one another."

An answering smile reaches my lips, "Yeah, they do". I'm not sure how long I stare at him in simple awe, but when he sniggers lightly and turns his face away I'm jolted to life from my revere. I gesture towards the canvas, "Lacking inspiration?"

Blue eyes land on me, sparkling with inner mirth, "Not anymore,"

**;3; I miss updates over the weekends...my own updates...how pathetic am I? *nervous laughter***


	39. money

_**money**_

I'm not sure which of us planned it or how we came about the decision, but I find myself waiting for Kuroko at the main gate on campus for his class to finish. My heart feels light and exceptionally care free, maybe I should be more worried, but I can't bring myself to be – I have a date-_no_, a _friendly_ outing with a _friend_ planned.

We're going to Magi Burger of course, because Kuroko going a day without his fix of vanilla milkshake would be preposterous. Not to mention how the idea of burgers makes my mouth water – as good as any food I make can be, there's simply nothing like a Magi burger. I've tried to re-create it a few times, with no luck.

I'm shuffling around, trying to get comfortable in my leaning against the gate when I see it. The top of a raven head – at first I think it may be Midorima's shorter friend, but the lack of enthusiasm in the man's steady steps tells me otherwise (besides there's no Midorima close by). I shake off the interest, what are the chances I know the person? Only a lingering sense of unease clings to my heart, only waning when I see a purple titan joining the other man. I don't know any of Murasakibara's friends, why would I?

Still I reach up a hand and fidget with the ring hanging on a chain around my neck.

"Kagami-kun, I'm ready to leave,"

I jump back and yelp, hands flying up as I start at the sudden appearance of Kuroko. "Don't sneak up on me!" I yell and glower once I'm over my shock.

The artist cocks his head to the side, "I've been here for a while now,"

I stare at those honest blue eyes and grumble an unintelligible reply, hands fidgeting before sicking into my pockets. "Whatever, Casper, let's get some food."

"Casper?" Kuroko questions with a small frown.

I fight the urge not to laugh, "Yeah, Casper the Friendly Ghost, it suits you,"

He huffs and this time I can't contain my chuckles at how bloody _adorable_ he is, "I'm not a ghost, more of a…phantom,"

"It's the same thing," I snigger.

"It's not," the pout intensifies, "Phantoms…are cooler."

I grin and nod, "Of course, because Kuroko is simply that cool."

He sends me an unappreciative glare and I laugh again. We fall into a comfortable silence and I wonder if it would be weird if I were to rest an arm on his shoulder – he's the perfect height – I restrain myself. It's too soon.

Suddenly the boy stops and I almost collide with his shoulder, "Ah, Kagami-kun, I've forgotten my money in my dorm, wait here and I'll go fetch it."

I roll my eyes and grab his elbow to keep him from escaping, "No, I'll pay for you, it's not like you eat a lot anyway."

He stares up at me, clear indecision written all over his face, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," I grin and nudge him forward, "C'mon those milkshakes aren't going to wait forever."

At the mention of his favourite drink, Kuroko's worry crumbles and he gives a firm nod, "I'm in your care, Kagami-kun,"

I laugh at how serious and formal he says it.

**:) Happy Youth Day, SA!**

**Please don't be mean to fanfictioners. If you don't write yourself, you have no basis on which to tell writers they suck... We're a community uniting people of like interests, don't treat that like it means nothing. Writers don't _have_ to write, they do it because they can, if you're horrible to them they might as well cut off your supply. **

**Sorry for the rant, but someone was horrible to a friend and fellow writer and it made me sad. :/ Thanks for reading and hugs to all you sweeties who are understanding about fiction insanity.**


	40. child's play

_**child's play**_

By the time I've scoffed down ten burgers, Kuroko's finished his milkshake and is busy nibbling on one of the burgers he stole from my tray. Not that I mind, damn, I'd give him _all_ my burgers if he wanted – I didn't say this aloud though. He's just so…cute when he focuses so whole-heartedly on finding the right angle to take a bite, unlike me he isn't content to shove the whole thing in his mouth and have sauce all over his face.

When I've finished my portion of food and Kuroko sets down his half eaten burger I sigh at the waste of pure delishiousness (is that a word? I don't know, I don't care, it is now.).

"You're seriously not going to eat the rest of that?" I bemoan and Kuroko looks at the burger as if it's a monster trying to consume him.

"No, I'm quite full, thank you, Kagami-kun," I groan and shake my head at his stubbornness, my eyes falling on the discarded food in longing. Kuroko gives a muffled snort, "Would you like to have it?"

I pause, wondering if it's a trick question before leaning forward and getting in Kuroko's space, "You'll give it to me?"

His eyes have grown wider, but he nods slowly and reaches for the food, carefully pushing it across the table, closer to me. "Eat it,"

I could hardly refuse and sit back in my seat, only then realising just how close I was to Kuroko only seconds ago. My face explodes in red. I pick up the burger, my eyes sinking away from Kuroko as I take a tentative bite. Kuroko makes a chocking sound, when I look up he has a hand over his face and his head bowed, even from the small distance I can see that his ears are pinking.

My face bursts in colour again – for no apparent reason, damn it – and I muffle my own confusion in the next bite of burger. We're stuck in silence, me eating, Kuroko…doing whatever he's doing, that is until-

"Ho-o-o?" We both turns our heads and I'm actually not too surprised to see Aomine and Momoi, the later grinning as bright as the sun, "What's this?"

Momoi giggles, wriggling around Aomine's arm like an excited puppy, "Shush, Dai-chan, can't you see they want to be alone?"

The Aho curls his lip and shoves himself into the seat next to Kuroko without invitation, he eyes me and the empty burger boxes on the tray. "If the dog eats too much he won't be able to play basketball anymore."

"Tigers are cats, Aomine-kun," Kuroko interjects but the baboon talks right over him.

"Your last win was pure luck, Bakagami, doubt you'll be able to do it again,"

"Dai-chan~" Momoi moans and crosses her arms across her chest.

"Ha!" I straighten my shoulders, feeling a grin pull at the corners of my mouth. "Beating you was child's play, Ahomine,"

"_Aho!"_ Aomine's face scrunches in rage, but thankfully there's a table between us and a willing Momoi to protect me from her deranged boyfriend.

**Hint hint: Kagami didn't notice the indirect kiss ;) XD**


	41. small town

**Double update just because :) lalalalalalalalalallalaaaaaalllalalalalalala~**

_**small town**_

Eventually I manage to extract Kuroko and myself safely from Aomine's proximity, with Momoi's help of course.

We travel away from either of our residences and toward the park – Kuroko's park – in relative silence. Part way there I blurt out randomly, "What's with the street names?"

Kuroko turns curious eyes to me before glancing to the side to examine a board declaring that the street was named Seirin. "It's…just the way it is." He looks back at me, "I used to live down here."

"Heh, in Seirin street?" I glanced between the boy and the road, wondering. "Why are you staying at the university then? Can't you just walk to class?"

Kuroko shakes his head, "No, my parents moved away in my last year of high school, they're in Tokyo now."

My brows raise, "Do you miss it? Your home,"

"Yes and no," a small smile tickles at the corners of his lips, "It was nice coming home to cooked meals and my mom's warm hugs, but Teiko…Teiko is home and I didn't want to go to Tokyo. Everyone I know is _here_, my past and future I've always seen being _here_,"

"Your future?" I question curiously.

A smile, "Teiko may be a small town, Kagami-kun, but it holds everything I could ever want."

My lips twitch around the thought whizzing through my head: _am I one of those things_? I don't ask him, I can't risk that, not now, not when we've gotten closer.

"Our home used to be between Riko-san and Junpei-sensei's houses," Kuroko mentions suddenly, "Teppei-sensei moved there recently as well. Junpei-sensei would tutor us on weekends, it's because of him that Furihata-san and I did so well in our Teiko entrance exams. He is a brilliant teacher and a good friend despite our age difference. I remember how Riko-san would sit on his shoulders and make him run around the back garden like a pony, it was funny."

I stare at the ground as he talks, Kuroko has a history here. He has memories, friends, _a_ _future_. In some ways I'm envious of that, but at the same time I'm happy he grew up with people who cared about him and helped him.

"Are you still close to them?"

"Yes, Riko-san's father likes to invite us all over for dinner occasionally. He's much like Junpei-sensei in some manners; I think that's why Riko-san finds Junpei-sensei such good company. He acts much like an older brother, very protective, but kind, and he retains qualities of her father. For an only child, Junpei-sensei is the closest thing to a sibling as Riko-san will get."

"And you?" I add with concern lacing my voice.

Kuroko flashes me the sweetest smile I've ever seen on his face, "My parents might have moved away, but my family remains here."


	42. authority figure

_**authority figure**_

We grapple our way to the park, conversation switching on and off at various intervals, mostly small talk, but at times our words mix to something deeper. The weather changes to why I dislike most seasons, mainly summer and winter, they're too extreme. Winter makes my old scars sensitive, but I don't tell him that, I merely mention the aches in my bones and the inability of my feet to warm up even though my body is like a furnace. Not to mention how stifled the hot summer air makes me. Kuroko responds in kind that he neither prefers nor dislikes any of the seasons – all have good painting material and to Kuroko that's enough – although he does have a slight enjoyment for summer as it makes drinking his favourite milkshakes that much easier.

Somewhere along the way Kuroko asks me about America, I can't say much – not without feeling like a bitter, old warmonger – so I recount the snowy Christmases with reindeer on the roof and the over the top holiday celebrations. My favourite, I add, was St Patrick's day – for no particular reason than it's nice to see some green around the city every so often. I get a laugh and amused hum in reply while Kuroko motions to the swing set in the park.

We hunker down in the undersized swing seats – we're both too big for them, although Kuroko fits with much less effort than me – the seat pinches my sides. I contend myself with leaning against the support poles and pushing the artist's swing a little higher every now and then instead.

"Does Kagami-kun's father play basketball?" Kuroko asks after a lull in our debate on what flavour of ice cream is best – I'm convinced I won in favour of chocolate, but Kuroko's small smile suggests his choice of vanilla will always win.

I hum for a moment and shake my head, forgetting that he can't see me in his current ascent into the sky. The swing whoops back down and outwards behind the supports. "No, he's addicted to the games and he played a little in school, but he's always been more focused on authority."

"He's a police officer?" Kuroko questions as he swings by me again.

"No, a fireman, still as dangerous, but without the flash of a badge,"

"And you don't worry?"

I chuckle, "Mom does all of that for me, I think she secretly lives for the thrill."

A smile crosses Kuroko's face, "My mother is the same, she can never stop fussing – but then again, my father isn't anything dangerous like yours."

I pause and reach to push Kuroko's swing once more, "What does he do?"

"He's a professor, he teaches biochemistry,"

My brows skyrocket, "Sounds dangerous enough to me. He doesn't get kicks out of transmutation or anything right?"

"What?" Kuroko looks honestly surprised and I try not to laugh.

"You know, because Aomine couldn't have been born an idiot, maybe your dad did something to him when you guys were younger."

Kuroko almost falls from the swing with how much he laughs and I nearly don't catch him from how much I do.


	43. I saw it in the sky

_**I saw it in the sky**_

We meet at Magi Burger again on the weekend, a Saturday, since Kuroko professes to have no one to spend these days with. The day starts off warmish, with a few happy looking candyfloss clouds floating around, occasionally breaking up and disappearing or merging with another. But by the time Kuroko and I settle down at Magi Burger a thick grey blanket has been pulled over the sky and I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm going to fall asleep to the sound of rain tonight.

For a long while we sit and eat in conformable silence, the occasional murmur from other patrons breaking the lull. I offer Kuroko one of my burgers and he accepts, taking the box making sure that our fingers don't brush – or maybe that's my imagination, surely Kuroko isn't getting all nervous around me _now_.

We continue in silence, my eyes shooting from my burgers to Kuroko's face ever so often. Darkness begins to fall and it occurs to me, while the silence is pleasant and we're both rather all right without overbearing small talk, we haven't spoken _at all_. At first I try not to let it worry me, but when I look up at some point and Kuroko's eyes reflect the unsettled clouds outside, I know it's time to break the silence.

I start by clearing my throat, putting my burger down as Kuroko turns to face me, "Is…is everything all right?"

He blinks multiple times and cocks his head, "Of course, why do you ask?"

I grumble and look down at my burgers before settling my eyes on him, "You just looked…" I purse my lips, wandering how to say it, "You look like you did on our second meeting, your eyes were-" I wave my hands around frantically, "-all stormy and sad looking. Usually they're bright and blue like the sky, but they kinda just…y'know?" When he lifts a brow, I grumble again and press a hand to my forehead, "You…you just looked sad."

When I sneak a peek at him there's this small smile working its way over his lips and he looks genuinely charmed by my words. "I'm okay, Kagami-kun, thank you for worrying. I don't mean to concern you." He fiddles with the straw of his vanilla shake, "On the morning of our second meeting I had been on the phone with my mother, she mentioned that my father was ill and they wouldn't be able to visit me that weekend as we planned."

"Oh…oh," I mutter and blush under his gaze, "He's better then?"

"Very much, I spoke to him this morning."

"That's good." I sigh, fingers once again reaching for my abandoned burger, just as my fingers close over it a sudden rush of sound nearly makes me jump. The clouds release their burden on the restaurant's roof and somewhere behind me I hear a little girl squeal and there are answering giggles from another.

"Rain…" Kuroko utters and glances at me, "Did you bring an umbrella, Kagami-kun?"

I turn crimson as I shake my head, feeling like a right fool. "Ah, no, did you?"

Kuroko's lips twist down at the corners, "No, I'm afraid not."

**I'm an aunty as of last night~ :D so happy :) :) :)**


	44. busy people

_**busy people**_

We huddle in the doorway, staring out at the rain uncertainly. It's gotten worse since it started and by this point in time the water is coming down in torrents. There aren't many people left in Magi Burger, many having retreated along with the rain – taking their umbrellas and raincoats with them.

Kuroko turns anxious eyes to me and I return his look with a weary smile. No matter what happens we're going to be soaked. We could struggle around looking for an open shop that sells umbrellas, but at this time of the evening, I believe our luck is out. Our best chances are to head directly for cover, no detours and no stopping.

I scowl out at the sky. "It's quite a bit back to TU isn't it?"

Kuroko's small shoulders bob in a shrug. "Ten minutes if I'm fast,"

My scowl deepens and I start to unzip my jacket. "You should take this, hold it over your head."

"I cannot, Kagami-kun," Kuroko denies vehemently, a small frown etched between his brow, the corners of his lips turned down.

"My place is closer; I don't need it as much as you do." I insist drawing the material from my arms and draping the garment over Kuroko's head.

Blue eyes peek from under the black material, a stubborn turn of his lips just after. "No,"

I roll my eyes, "Take it, Kuroko,"

The jacket slips to fall around his shoulders; he looks so small in it. "No, Taiga-kun," I freeze at the use of my first name, my mind racing in all different directions. "I'll not take it."

My heart is beating too fast, "Just…" the narrowing of his eyes silences me for a second, "Come back to my place then. I'll lend you an umbrella, or you can just stay over. It's a Saturday after all."

When the silence extends I'm sure he's about to turn me down, but finally his face softens and he graces me with a smile. "All right, but you should take the jacket back."

I take the procured clothing while shaking my head, inside I'm jumping for joy. I lift the jacket up and branch my arm over Kuroko's shoulders so that the jacket is draped over both our heads. "How about this?"

For several long moments Kuroko stares at me, the shadows hiding his eyes. Eventually he reaches out a hand and clutches at one end of the material. "This is perfect, Kagami-kun."

I gulp at the lump blocking my throat and will myself to believe kissing Kuroko is a bad idea.

We take to the night as easily as we came, leaving behind the last busy people occupying the store.

**;)**


	45. waterfall

_**waterfall**_

I hardly notice the chill of the rain with Kuroko's warm shoulder pressing into my side. We hurry across the street, our arms brushing and feet struggling to work in sync. Yet despite the waterfall coming down on our heads I feel as if I'm on fire. The struggle to stay focused on where we were going is immense.

I'm so absorbed in the pure happiness coursing through me at our close proximity that I feel genuine disappointment at reaching the apartment building; merely for the sake that I'd no longer have an excuse to stand so close to Kuroko.

Together we slide in to the building entrance, bringing enough water to fill an Olympic pool along with us.

For the longest time we stand there, absorbing the relatively warmer air – not that I even notice with how warm Kuroko's shoulder is making me, although the artist's teeth are chattering.

I cringe, eyeing his pale face in concern. "You can have a bath at my place and I'll lend you some clothes – if you go out in that again you're going to get sick."

Kuroko's head bobs in acceptance as he turns his head towards me, "Thank you, Kagami-kun, that's very kind of you."

It surprises me how I hadn't noticed how close we were. Sure I noticed the shoulder – _how couldn't I? _But Kuroko's face is inches away; if he was slightly taller or I slightly shorter, I could kiss his perfect rosy lips without making it seem too obvious…

I jerk back, nearly stumbling over my own feet to get some distance between us. The jacket slips from my fingers and momentarily falls over Kuroko's tempting face. I take the precious seconds to compose myself, turning around and scrubbing calloused hands over my burning face. I'm not sure whether I'm more disgusted or annoyed with myself. There are _so_ many things wrong with this picture. Firstly, inviting Kuroko to stay over at my place seems increasingly stupid by the second; secondly, I was barely three seconds away from completely snogging my only friend; and, thirdly, you can't even imagine how angry I am at myself for not just taking the chance.

"Kagami-kun," I turn my head to look at Kuroko, completely surprised by the frost in his tone – damn, could he know that I was about to kiss him? I hope not. I sincerely hope not, I'm not ready to deal with that just yet. "It's cold; shall we head to your apartment?"

A jerky nod works its way past my muddled thoughts and I blearily lead Kuroko up the stairs and straight to my apartment. Once inside I hurry to fetch us towels to dry off our dripping bodies before Kuroko barely makes it past the door.


	46. under the tree

**Good morning ;D have an ammaaaazzzing Wednesday!**

_**under the tree**_

I can't explain how this happened. Honestly, most of it's a blur – like a TV overrun with static imagery and missing dialogues.

I seem to recall Kuroko retreating to the bathroom and the odd realisation that the kid hums to himself when bathing – damn, that's just too cute. Then he emerged from the doorway wearing my old sweats and an ancient school jersey, they're too big for him and the sleeves hang past his fingers – seriously, he's killing me with how bloody adorable he is. Then there's the vague recollection of the conversation on what movie we should watch to pass time, followed by the scent of butter popcorn – apparently it's his favourite. Somewhere in the distance I heard the TV and a voice chanting: "…sitting under a tree: K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

Which brings us to _now_.

In this very moment, it's the apex of my time here in Japan.

The moment I hadn't know I was looking forward to so much until it was staring me directly in the face. Literally.

Kuroko's face is so close that I can feel his breath on my chin; I can see the lightest flecks of silver in his artic-blue eyes; I can see the near invisible freckles lining the bridge of his small nose. And woe me, I've never seen anything more beautiful than this brilliant artist in my short life.

Neither of us closes the distance, but with our noses touching I feel as if we've kissed already. My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out the murmur from the movie in the background – or maybe that's the storm outside the window, I'm not sure and I don't really care.

His lips part and I can smell the traces of popcorn and vanilla on his breath, I couldn't care less in that moment if he smelled of garlic. He's just _so close_. "Kagami-kun," he starts silently, eyes locked with mine, his pupils blown wide. "Would you mind making the first move?"

God, I can't believe this is actually happening. My face is burning hotter than St Helena on a bad day in the 1980's. "Gladly," I breathe out with some difficulty.

My head tilts, our eyes stay locked and I close the gap.

It's not warm and soft. But it's perfect. Kuroko's lips are cool and chapped, as if they'd been neglected. I can't fathom why they'd be neglected though. They're just so _dsjfgnalkuergba_…

The gentlest of pressure between us makes my mind fog over is bliss. And suddenly leaning towards him and pecking his lips so sweetly doesn't seem enough.

These lips deserve attention. They deserve to be looked after better than Midorima's stupid hand.

My fingers find their way into soft ice-blue hair. They snag on tiny knots and stroke the beautiful strands.

Somehow it's no longer a caress between two mouths. Kuroko's bottom lip receives extra care first and his breath catches and releases at odd intervals under my devout attention.

I lavish the lip with my own. Kuroko makes a quiet sound of surprise.

My lids flicker up. _Shit_. When did I close them?

Kuroko's eyes are squeezed shut and his face is flushed ruby.

Damn if the sight doesn't make me a little, _lot_, dizzy.


	47. new furniture

_**new furniture**_

Air, I find, is essential to living.

I wake to Kuroko shaking my shoulder, his brow furrowed in concern and his face red as a tomato. "Wha..?" I begin in no uncertain terms confused. Was it a dream? Was that seriously a _fucking_ _dream_? I could cry at how sad that possibility – no, more like a _certainty_ – makes me. I can't believe the best moment of my life was a tale twisted by my wacked imagination.

"You fainted," Kuroko supplies as he helps me to sit up. Is it my imagination or is there a trace of annoyance in his voice?

We're sitting in front of the couch as my dream had supplied – it nearly gives me hope…_nearly_.

Once I'm up straight, Kuroko sits back down next to me, back pressing against the front of my new furniture, and stares at the end credits to our movie. I watch him with uncertainty. Dare I ask?

"It wasn't your first time, was it?" the words reach my ears just barely, I strain to hear them.

"My what?" I blink owlishly and glance around, looking for a clue, "Ah…no, I've fainted before, mostly after basketball matches and such,"

Kuroko's head snaps around to me and I jerk back at the look of pure hurt on his face. "No..." he stops for a moments, mouth working silently before his eyes lower and I see his fingers fiddle with the edge of the jersey he's wearing. His face is still red, and so are his ears. "T-the kiss."

"_That was real_?" I practically shout and it's Kuroko's turn to jump and give me wide eyes. I splutter and dry wash my face. "It-it actually _happened_?" I question incredulously, hands poised over my cheeks.

Blue eyes lower once again. When he lifts a hand and touches his bottom lip, my head nearly explodes with the steam that one action builds up. "Yes, do you…regret it, Kagami-kun?"

I launch myself forward and grab his shoulders, reflexively demanding he look at me. "No! No nononono! No!" My heart stalls in my chest – I should get that checked out for sure – when worried artic eyes meet my gaze, "Absolutely not! I…ah…I," I force myself to take a breath to calm down; "I'd actually love to do it again."

His eyes widen almost comically and I could slap myself, "You do?"

I make an embarrassing choking sound that brings a small smile to Kuroko's lips – lips that I so _so_ _SO_ badly want to kiss again. "Y-yes," It's barely above a whisper.

Kuroko nods once before stretching up and pressing the lightest of pecks against my lips. When he settles down I stare at him, he stares right back, a beautiful beam gracing his perfect mouth. "Me too, Kagami-kun, me too."

**Is it bad that that I give myself feels? XD**


	48. a cat walks past

_**a cat walks past**_

I have no clue how I make it through a whole conglomeration of movies without attacking Kuroko and putting his earlier words to good use.

"Kagami-kun," Kuroko pokes at my side without turning towards me, his eyes focused on the television. "You need to translate for me. I understood the part about freeing the horses and the threats by the cowboys, but what he said after I could not figure out."

I cringe, turning my eyes back to the old Western film Kuroko had chosen despite the language barrier. I hadn't been paying attention; at least I've seen this particular film enough to know the general gist of what had been said while I was contemplating kissing Kuroko's lovely lips. "Ah…something along the lines of 'all we need now is for a black cat to walk past'."

Kuroko presses pause and turns to give me an inquisitive glance, "A black cat? I didn't see any cats, are you sure you heard right?"

"Yeah, well," I reach an arm to the back of my head to scratch at the red fuzz sprouting on the back of my neck. "It's a…superstition thing, actually the same as Japan."

"Oh," Kuroko's face lights up and he turns back to the movie, pressing play, "An ill omen,"

"Ah huh, basically put they don't think things could get worse,"

Kuroko's brow lowers in a frown as one of the cowboys are shot and the horse runs off, "They always get worse if you say that." He pauses the movie again and turns to me, "In middle school Aomine-kun had horrible behaviour and Momoi-san always said that at least he couldn't get worse, but he did. And Akashi-kun was protective, but never harsh, that was until we thought his tyranny couldn't get worse."

"He seems… okay now, I guess?"

Kuroko nods sagely, "Akashi-kun has improved since he met Furihata-kun, they are very close and Furihata-kun gets upset when Akashi-kun threatens others. I believe Akashi-kun is improving simply because he doesn't want Furihata-kun to dislike him,"

I think back to their surprise visit and realise that, indeed, Akashi was less harsh with the brunette around. I mention so aloud and have the privilege of seeing Kuroko's brows sky-rocket.

"They came to see you? About what?"

I chuckle nervously, "Ah, about you actually."

"Me?" Kuroko splutters incredulously, before his eyes narrow, "Was it Momoi-san's fault?"

"Huh, Momoi? What does she have to do with this?"

"She…" Kuroko suddenly stops and tries to stand up, hands curling into his sides. "I think I'd like to sleep now, Kagami-kun, I'll take the couch,"

"Yes-ah! Wait, what?" I stumble to my feet and grab Kuroko's wrist to stop him from hurrying to the other side of the couch. "What did she do?"

Kuroko's eyes lower and he slips his wrist from my grasp until only our fingers are touching. "She must have told Akashi-kun that I liked you."


	49. Expenses

**We're nearing the end everyone...**

_**expenses**_

It's been four months since our first kiss, four months since Kuroko took my hand and told me he liked me. Four beautiful, amazing months in which I got to replay those precious words and heart stopping actions in reality.

Kuroko once told me that he had no one to spend the weekends with, that his Saturdays were lonely as everyone already had plans. He can't say so anymore. In fact, I'm more than positive that he sort of longs for those quiet, restful weekends now. I don't hog his time; well at least I try not to. Not with Uni and assignments and the basketball team we decided to try out for in our spare time.

But we do spend a lot of time together, I don't mind, I love spending time with him. My artist. My boyfriend. My best friend. I didn't think I'd ever grow this close to someone after Tatsuya, I never thought that I could develop a relationship like this after so many promising ones had failed.

Things are different now though. Back then all I had was Tatsuya for support, now…now I have an enthusiastic blonde who is infatuated with Kasamatsu-sensei and never fails to remind me of how Kuroko smiles only at me. I have a grumpy green haired medical student who never fails to surprise me with his sincere talk of living life to the fullest. I have an annoying _aho_ who is always up to a game of basketball or maybe just a quick bout of insults. I have an over protective emperor who glares at anyone who looks at Kuroko and my hand-holding with disgust. I have a supportive, teasing pink airhead who knows only the best places for me to take Kuroko on dates. Then there's a purple titan who sneaks me sweets in class and gives me recipes for Kuroko's favourite dishes, besides Vanilla-everything of course.

Some days I'm left in wonder. I can't believe that this is how things are now. I can hardly comprehend that Kuroko actually likes me, even though he says it more than enough and, if our kisses are any indication of his emotions, he certainly isn't lying.

"Taiga-kun," I flush, I'll never get used to that, no matter how good it sounds coming from Kuroko's lips. "Are you sure about going out this weekend?"

I turn worried eyes to the artist sitting beside me. Magi Burger is abuzz around us; Midorima and Takao are still to join us for this strange half-maybe-perhaps double date. "You don't want to?"

Kuroko sends me an exasperated glare and purses his lips, "Stop acting so insecure,"

I snort and sling an arm around his shoulders, although I blush crimson. "I do not doubt you,"

"You're doubting yourself again," Kuroko accuses and I shrug, because it's the truth and what can I say to that? He's silent for a moment before he snuggles to my side, his sigh only for me to hear. "I saw the bills on your kitchen counter yesterday," I stiffen but Kuroko twists his arms around my waist and gives a reassuring squeeze. "We don't need to go out to be together. I'm happy spending time with you at home or by the park."

"But I want to treat you," my heart palpitates in my chest.

Kuroko lifts his chin and captures my eyes, "And I don't want you to struggle with paying your Uni tuition." He squeezes my waist once again when I try to protest, "This shouldn't mount up your expenses, we needn't go to all the restaurants Momoi-san suggests or watch all the movies Kise-kun thinks are exciting. We can eat burgers and watch the bad English movies you have at home."

I curl my arm and bring Kuroko closer, dropping my face to rest my cheek on his hair. Smells like vanilla, I should have figured. "Thank you," I whisper, my chest swelling and warm.

"It's too early in the day to be arrested for PDA," Takao chirps as he and Midorima round the corner and reach our booth.

"Let them do as they wish, I won't be paying the bail," the green haired beast replies with an adjustment of his glasses.

I glare at them over Kuroko's head.


	50. I never expected

_**I never expected…**_

Murisakibara suggests a celebratory dinner for end of the year festivities – that including the whole Rainbow group before they head off to wherever they need to be for the short holiday. At first I fear that the titan might suggest holding the 'thing' at my apartment as it had somehow grown to be the central gathering post for most parties these days. It's putting a mighty dent in my food budget and not to mention the mess the place seems to be in permanently. But, to my joy and horror, Akashi suggests we go to his place – Rakuzan is only an hour train ride out of Teiko – he has kitchen staff to prepare the food and décor in advance and all we need do is show up and be merry.

The train ride is made perfect merely because Kuroko snuggles against my side and falls asleep in no time flat. Trains, I've found, put the artist to sleep like nothing else could.

Midorima and Takao sit opposite us, Takao doing most of the talking with the green haired man correcting his speech or facts every so often. Kise, Ahomine and Momoi left the day before and stayed by Akashi for the night – Furihata apparently having left with Akashi at the beginning of the week. I have yet to hear after Murisakibara, something about going to Yósen before meeting up with us at Rakuzan.

We arrive and disembark – me carrying Kuroko's bag as he's still rubbing his eyes and yawning, clinging to my arm so as not to get lost in the small crowed present at the station.

I nearly expect to see a balding butler in a fancy suit waiting to take us to the Akashi residence, but I'm pleasantly surprised to say we come across Akashi Seijurou and Furihata in – what can only be described as – an embarrassing discussion judging by the colour of Furihata's face.

Moments later they join us, Furihata still the colour of Akashi's hair and their fingers entwined. "We are still waiting for Atsushi and his date,"

My brows sky rocket, the titan has a date? I don't question it, I've learned that the rainbow nation is not to be underestimated nor questioned. Instead I lead Kuroko to the side and set him in a chair along with our belongings before I rush to a nearby vending machine in order to fetch him an unhealthy dose of caffeine.

When I return I notice a head of purple hair poking out above the crowed close to where I'd left Kuroko and a small smile graces my lips as I near him. "Hey, I didn't know you-" The words die on my lips as Murasakibara and his 'date' turn to face me. When I meet a silver eye it feels like someone's sucker punched me in the gut, I'm not sure whether I want to scream or run away. Maybe both. "Tatsuya…" The name catches on my lips and my hand curls dangerously tight around the can of coffee.

My childhood friend blinks back at me, his gaze then swinging to Murasakibara and back, his voice following just as nonchalantly, "Taiga, I didn't know you were in Japan,"

My stomach churns in on itself, feeling uncomfortably hot.

Murasakibara makes a sound of confusion, "Heh, but I told Muro-chin about Kaga-chin, Kuro-chin's boyfriend,"

"Oh," Tatsuya turns back to look at me, face impassive, "I never expected it to be _you_. But it's good to see you again, Taiga."

It's a good thing Munchies is as fast as he is, otherwise his 'date' would have a blue eye or two instead of me.


	51. aroma

_**aroma**_

"Ouch!" I hiss and jerk to the side.

"Stop being such a baby," Kuroko accuses and reaches out a hand, with cloth, to dab at the cut on my brow. "Murasakibara-kun did not hit you _that_ hard."

"I beg to differ, Tetsu," I snipe as he continues to torture my wounds.

From the other seat in the Limo – yes a limousine, I shit you not, Akashi continues to surprise me – there's a soft laugh and Takao's head swivels around Midorima's unaffected disposition in order to see us. "In all honestly, you did deserve it,"

I roll my eyes, but end up wincing instead. "It was instinctual; I wasn't _actually_ going to hit him."

Kuroko presses a little harder and I whimper, "Kagami-kun has anger problems."

I groan, "C'm_on_, Tetsuya,"

I receive a cool glare and cleverly shut my mouth. "I don't understand why you'd be this angry. You've told me about your friendship with him and what I've come across from what you said is that it was not Himuro-san's fault for moving away."

I grumble but wisely stay still. It wasn't because of our past, okay it _was_, but indirectly. The reason I got so mad wasn't that Tatsuya left me hanging when I needed him most – but because when he saw me after so much time he acted as if those 9 years of friendship never existed in the first place. And here I am struggling to keep myself from toppling over the edge whenever I got nightmares about being absolutely alone or worse…surrounded by people who hate me. Granted I had Kuroko's support, but old demons don't acknowledge new surroundings all that often.

The artist must have sensed my distress – he's good at that, telling when my thoughts wined down a darkened path – because he strokes back my hair and places a gentle kiss over the cut on my forehead. "You need to apologise to him when we get to Akashi-kun's house," he states firmly despite the gentle caress to my cheek. "to Akashi-kun and Murasakibara-kun as well for creating so much trouble for them."

A solemn nod makes my head bob and without further warning I drag Kuroko onto my lap in spite of his weak protests. He snuggles against my chest contentedly moments later anyway.

We arrive at the Akashi residence to the intoxicating aroma of cooking meat and faint wisps of pine, mint and something sweet. Takao practically bounces out the vehicle dragging a reluctant Midorima behind him. Kuroko and I follow slower, enjoying the view.

I've never seen anything – any home – this large or magnificent before. No one else seems as affected as I do when Akashi-kun leads us inside, through a chandelier lit foyer and up a flight of stairs – past curtsying maids and bowing butlers.

Finally we reach a large dining room that really was the size of my whole apartment, in which a table in decked in fine china and crystal. There's a curious set of colourful couches in the corner by a convenient fireplace and three colourful haired people taking the luxury of warming their fingers at the hearth.

"Kurokocchi~" the blonde model flies across the room as soon as he notices our presence and glomps Kuroko in a position that can't hardly be comfortable. Kuroko merely pats Kise's arm and ushers reassurances to the blonde's frantic explanation of all the horrible things 'Aominicchi' said about Kise's supposedly dying modelling career.

My eyes snag on raven and purple. I suck in a deep breath, my eyes flickering to Kuroko for confidence a moment before I straighten my shoulders and start forward.

**Ganbare, Kagami-kun~!**


	52. an obstacle

_**an obstacle**_

My heart thuds dangerously against my breast bone, there's a sane part of me that is telling me to run away from the scary titan who seems intent on eating me. But the crazy for Kuroko side of me wins out – if the artist insists I apologise for something I really don't believe I've done wrong, I'll do it. I don't really understand why I am always so adamant on making Kuroko happy – no I do, it's just embarrassing to admit it aloud – but I find myself doing it so often I wonder whether he's trained me like that puppy he shoves in my face every so regularly.

I clear my throat and lift my flattened palms as an indication of surrender when Munchies glares at me and purposely places himself in front of Tatsuya. "I come in peace," I grumble, for some reason sarcasm leaks through.

Munchies seems less than impressed with my submission but a soft chuckle sounds from behind him. Tatsuya emerges from behind the titan and places a calming hand on the giant's arm, "Can you get me something to drink, please, Atsushi?"

Murasakibara sends me another glare – obviously our mutual like of milk chocolate KitKats aren't enough to save me this time – before nuzzling his chin on Tatsuya's head and walking off to the drink table on the opposite end of the room.

For a moment Tatsuya and I share silent glances before my friend huffs out a sigh and combs his fingers through his dark fringe. "I...get it." He starts, "I'd be pretty pissed too if you suddenly left me."

I shake my head, "That's not it –well, it is, but-"

"I get it." He interrupts and gives me that rare lopsided smile of his. "I didn't really have a choice about leaving and, in truth, I don't regret the things I did to get shipped away to Japan." I remain quiet trying to figure out where this was headed, I used to be able to read Tatsuya like a book – like I can read Kuroko now. "The thing is…I missed you." I jerk my gaze to his and freeze, "I did, you were my brother, my best friend." His eyes flicker away from mine and land across the room where Murasakibara got side-tracked by a bowl of candy. "Only, I don't regret leaving you anymore. This is my future, well maybe it is, I'd like it to be. So I'm not going to say sorry," he meets my eyes again, they're determined, "Because I can no longer honestly say that. You can hate me all you want; it's not going to change anything."

My mouth opens and closes. I shake my head before snorting and giving Tatsuya a good nature thump on the shoulder. "You idiot." He scowls, reaching up a hand to rub the spot I punched while I chuckle, "I came over to say sorry for earlier; about trying to hit you and all. I've…never been really good at holding back, but I've been trying, Kuroko helps a lot. When I saw you though and you spoke to me as if I were a complete stranger – I felt like a stupid 15 year old all over again. I felt angry and lonely and as if I were a cornered, kicked puppy."

"That wasn't my-"

"I know," a grin spreads over my face; I reach a hand under the collar of my shirt and pull out the chain and ring. "This has helped me a lot. Although you weren't there and at times I hated you for it, I had this." I pull the chain over my head and hang it in the space between us. "Neither of us are the kids we used to be, we faced obstacles we didn't need to and quite frankly I agree with you, this is the future." I watch Tatsuya carefully as I grip the chain in my hand. "I'm not asking to be those stupid kids again. I just want to know that you're still my friend, maybe not my brother as we once put it, but a friend, even if it's through Muchies over there."

I don't have a moment to prepare myself before Tatsuya has his arms around me and I'm struggling to breathe. "Munchies," he chuckles and sighs, "Thank you," he says softer and I slowly return the hug, my eyes wandering up to find Kuroko's gaze across the room.


	53. red lines

**Ahhhh, the one and only angst chapter... enjoy!**

_**red lines**_

"Taiga-kun!" I hear Kuroko's call from the living room and stumble over myself to carry my scavenged bag of chips, a chocolate and a tub of vanilla ice-cream in the direction of my boyfriend's voice. "Hurry, the movie's starting."

I skid into the door way and all but throw the foods at Kuroko in my haste to sit down and get comfortable at his side. "I'm here, I'm here!"

He snickers and curls against my side, under my arm, shoving the snacks to the side to make way for his feet. "You nearly missed it," On the TV, across the room, the opening credits end and we're greeting by the not-so-well-budgeted first scene of our evening's entertainment.

With practiced ease I melt against Kuroko's strangely cool body – for which I'm thankful for during this hellish summer heat, it makes cuddling a splendid endeavour – and reach behind him for the bag of chips. My gaze stays glued to the TV screen.

A soft sigh permits the air, "Don't mess any crumbs in my hair,"

I roll my eyes and move the bag to my other hand so that it's as far from that pretty blue hair as it can get while I continue to munch. For a while I try to follow the film, but I lose interest too fast to care about the plot anymore, "You never mentioned what your parents said about me,"

Kuroko gives a soft hum but no further comments and I huff in annoyance, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Meeting Kuroko's parents the week before had been hell, mostly because when they first arrived it was to the sight of Kuroko and I doing some heavy petting on the couch. Then I happened to burn a dish I've never gotten wrong – like _ever_ – and managed to make a complete fool of myself every time they asked me a question. Even the weather turned into another language. I'm rather sure they hate me and are secretly going to contact Kuroko and suggest he end this pointless relationship.

I shift again and wince, reaching down to adjust the fabric of my pyjama flannels where they pull tight against my thighs.

A moment passes where I try to re-direct my attention to the movie to no avail.

"Kagami-kun," I cringe at the coolness of the tone and the use of my surname, whatever I did, I'm in big trouble. I chance a glance down to see Kuroko's eyes are not in fact on me but focused on my pants. "There's blood."

I snap my gaze down and curse, shoving Kuroko to the side and struggling to my feet, the world suddenly spinning too fast as I try to find the bathroom. I _do_ find the bathroom, but Kuroko follows at my heels and won't let me shut him out the rest room while I pant and try to hide my face.

"Taiga-kun," he soothes and reaches for my hands, his voice oddly raspy in the silent bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I babble out, still fighting to hide my face, "I'm so, so _sorry_,"

"Hush," Kuroko peels my fingers from my eyes and I nearly freak more when I see the moisture in his gaze. "Just let me see it, okay?"

I want to say 'no' so badly, but I end up nodding my head, I can't get over the look on Kuroko's face. He leads me to sit on the toilet seat, gently tugging at my pants in indication for me to pull them down. I cringe at the action and refuse to meet Kuroko's gaze.

Cool fingers press against the raw flesh of my thighs and I nearly choke in horror, keeping my eyes averted. "You…you've been doing it for a while." It's not an accusation, but not acceptance either – Kuroko sounds like I've intentionally tried to stab him.

I cringe and breathe a whimper, "S-since your parents arrived. I'm so sorry, Tetsu, I'm really-"

I'm cut off by a fierce kiss and moments later Kuroko is staring fiercely into my eyes. "These red lines are going to stop now. No more, _okay_? No more! You tell me when you feel the urge coming on and we'll work through it together. You _tell_ me these things." His blues eyes turn into watery pools as he cups my face, "No more cutting. _Okay_?"

I lean forward as tears streak my cheeks and press a quick kiss to his trembling lips; they taste of his own tears. "Okay," I can't promise, but for him…I'll try.


	54. hopelessly romantic

**Recently had the desire to read Shogo manga...now I'm trapped in its web of moe...(Inner Me *screaming*: YOU NEED TO WRITE, BAKKKKAAAAAAAAA)**

_**hopelessly romantic**_

"I can't believe Kise actually approached Kasamatsu-sensei," I chuckle and tap my fingers on the pristine table cloth between Kuroko and I.

The artist shrugs his shoulders, fingers playing with the stem of a wine glass. "It was graduation,"

"That kid has balls of steel," I retort with a small smile as Kuroko rolls his eyes. "And to think the guy said yes…"

Another shrug, only this time it's followed by an answering smile. "I'm glad; Kise-kun liked Kasamatsu-sensei even before entering Teiko University. They lived close for some time,"

"I know," I state and Kuroko nods sagely, "Kasamatsu was the babysitter he was so hopelessly in love with after all."

"According to Kise-kun they were married back then,"

I gulp and force a chuckle; somehow the conversation was getting a tad too serious – despite the rather comical nature of topic. "Only in his mind,"

"That is true," Kuroko lifts his glass and sips the wine; pulling a face and setting the glass back down again.

"Sorry," I cringe and finger my own glass, "It kind of tastes terrible, doesn't it?"

Kuroko gives an amused smile, "Taiga-kun knows very little about wine after all."

I roll my eyes, "Alex said it was good, I thought I could trust her."

"You should never trust Alex-san again," Kuroko says with a sour glance at the glass. "It is clear she does not know what she's talking about."

"I hope not about everything," I whisper to myself.

"Sorry, Taiga-kun, I missed that…"

"Ah! Nothing, nothing," I say with a high pitched, incredibly fake chuckle.

A moment later the waiter shows up with the most distasteful expression on his face as he hands Kuroko his vanilla milkshake. I offer a small shrug but accept my own mug of coffee grateful as the man copies down our food order and leaves.

"Ah," the artist hums, eyes crinkling at the corners as he sips his shake. "Why did you insist on coming here to celebrate? Not that their milkshake is bad… but we could just have gone to Magi Burger or you could have cooked for us."

I stare at him for a long time. "Because you're important to me, Tetsuya, and I want to spoil you rotten as much as I can." A lump forms in my throat; he's so beautiful with the candles illuminating his face. "I never want you to feel like I don't love you, that I don't appreciate everything you bring to my life."

Kuroko's face flushes red – although it could just be the candlelight. "You...love me?"

"Of course I do!" I feel my face burst in colour and I groan, hiding my face in my hands. "I do love you, so very much."

He gently kicks my foot under the table and raises a hand to cover his face. "Don't be so sudden…" there's a soft sound and he peeks at me between his fingers, "I-I love you too, Bakagami,"

What a sight we must be, sitting there in that posh restaurant with our faces hidden in our hands. Not to mention how loud my heart is beating, the valet outside can probably hear it too.

"I probably love you more though," I grumble out and Kuroko snickers, kicking me again as his hand lowers from his face – although he's still as red as my hair.

"How hopelessly romantic of you, Taiga-kun,"

I snort, "I try," for a long while we stare at each other across the table and finally our hands sneak over the cloth and our fingers entwine.

I've never been this happy in my life.

**;A; second last chapter...**


	55. FOREVER

**Hi, minna-san, please note that this is the very last chapter of Pieces of Me. Regarding this chapter, it was originally an idea I scrapped for the pure purpose of it not fitting with the prompts. But it has been resurrected and written as my personal 'hooray' for the LGBT community gaining the right of marriage. **

**I've chosen to use the character's first names for a reason.**

**Mild warning for implied insults/sexual innuendo**

I don't know how Daiki managed to do it…I can't imagine how that idiot could _possibly_ create something this…beautiful. Well, I guess most of the credit can go to Satsuki. Daiki wasn't the one who had to carry around a baby in his body for nine months – although he sure looks pale and tired enough to have been. Satsuki on the other hand is literally glowing with energy and if it weren't for the nurse threatening to restrain her she might have been swatting her friends away from the baby cradled in Mrs T's arms with an oar.

"I wanna hold her! Give her to me!" Ryouta pesters, peeking over the elderly woman's shoulder and trying to pull the strangest of faces to get little Mai-chan to smile. He reaches eager hands out for the swaddled body but he doesn't get more than fingertips on her blanket before Kasematsu is yanking him away and scolding the blonde in no uncertain terms, to _behave_.

Most of us would have laughed at the couple, but everyone's consumed with staring at the small, red and chubby face – that is, all except Atsushi who's sulking that he wasn't allowed to bring his snacks inside the maternity ward.

"Ahh," Daiki grouses from his barely-perch on the bed next to Satsuki. "Don't stare at her, she looks so angry." He cringes slightly and turns an accusing eye at Seijūrō in the far corner, "What did you do to my baby?"

Seijūrō rolls his eyes, looking more amused and relaxed than I've ever seen him. "It is not my fault. Kouki and my Seyuri is a perfectly happy and adorable thing. If your child is angry-looking, it's your fault, Daiki."

"Seijūrō!" Satsuki snaps, narrowing her eyes threateningly, "Mai-chan is beautiful,"

In return she receives an astute nod, "Indeed she is, takes after her mother too."

For a moment Satsuki is shocked silent, before she smiles, simply deciding to accept the compliment as just that, instead of picking it apart as Daiki would have done. "Thank you, I worked damn hard to have her!"

"I did too!" Daiki chips in.

Satsuki snorts and nearly succeeds in shoving him from the bed, but he wraps his arms around her too fast. "You fainted, twice, and _I_ was the one in pain."

"How very _unmanly_, Daiki," I laugh.

From across the room I can see the fire in his eyes, but at the last minute before a retort can form he seems to recall something and turns mildly green. "When you see a head fit through something so small…" he winces and presses a hand over his mouth.

I cringe at the mental imagery and shake my head, curling my arm tighter around Tetsu at my side. "Lucky for me, I won't have that problem."

Daiki glares at me hatefully, "Stupid, ass fuc-"

"_DAIKI_!" Four voices roar simultaneously – the most surprising of the lot being a flushed Tatsuya who is attempting to block the baby's ears. Shintarō, Seijūrō and Satsuki's reactions make sense…Tatsuya? Not so much.

Mrs T chuckles and bounces the child gently in her arms – receiving soft little moans and the pursing of lips in return.

In my arms, Tetsu shrugs and leans further against my chest, I hold him tighter. "You're just mad because he was scouted for the NBA."

I snigger against his ear and I know he's giving off one of those rare open grins that usually make people stare – mostly because Satsuki is staring and secondly because he is _my_ Tetsuya and I just know him that well.

"Oh, yeah." Tatsuya suddenly abandons the baby – not the sulking Atsushi, but Mai-chan – to squeeze next to Kazu on one of the seats. "How are you two going to handle that?"

I open my mouth to tell him we're still working it out still, but Kuroko beats me to speaking. "We'll move to America,"

For a long moment the room falls silent. I'm not sure who looks more shocked: everyone else in the room or me. I honestly don't remember us deciding that. Was I drunk? Did I mention it while half asleep after a movie marathon? I know how much Teiko means to Kuroko, how much these _people_ mean to him. He'd never leave here willingly – it was his _home_.

"You're moving to America?" Shintarō questions softly. Even he is affected, because I've never heard his voice so raw, except for that time when Kazunari fell down the stairs and ended up in ICU.

Silence follows and I slowly loosen my arms around my artist, "We haven't decided." I state firmly, meeting the eyes of every man and woman present in the room. "We haven't," I repeat, a frown surfacing.

"We'll not stop you, Kagami Taiga," Seijūrō finally speaks up, Kouki looking less sure of his words while sitting on the man's lap. "We merely worry."

"You'll be too far for us to help you if anything should happen." Tatsuya states quietly.

I hadn't even _accepted_ the position yet…but look at this. Now I feel even more torn. "If-if I accept the position then I'll go alone, Tetsu doesn't need to leave too."

"Kagami-kun," the firmness of my surname, a name Tetsu only uses when severely infuriated these days, resounds through the room and several of the occupants cringe and glance between us nervously. Tetsu turns in my loose arms to glare at me; his voice holds enough ice to turn me into a Popsicle. "I think we need to talk about this."

My mouth moves silently and I glance over his shoulder, seeking assistance, but no one rises to the occasion.

"That sounds like a sound plan, dears, talk it over." Mrs T interrupts and gives an encouraging smile over the mound of baby in her arms.

I assume Tetsu means to talk at home, but before I can blink he's tugging me from the room. I stumble after him, not willing to risk hurting him by forcing us to stop. We stroll down the corridor, the echoes of baby's cries across the maternity ward.

Finally Tetsu stops in front of the observation glass and instead of looking at me, he stares into the baby room. "You _are_ accepting the position, it's your dream."

I bite my lip, "Are you sure you want me to do this? We'll be separated for a while."

Tetsu turns on me, eyes bright with tears. "I love you, Taiga, and you love me. There's no way I'm letting you go alone."

"But Teiko is-"

"Teiko _nothing_!" He snaps and a nearby nurse shushes us, Tetsu visibly deflates and steps closer to lower his voice. "I once told you that everything I ever wanted is _here_. But if you're in America then my words will be a lie."

I reach out a hand and trace my fingers over his jaw; I remember when his cheeks used to be rounder, his eyes harder, and his hair longer. I remember when we were both young and nervous in our affections. I recall with startling clarity the first time we kissed, held hands, said 'I love you'. How we were both unsure about being a couple in public or how wrinkled noses used to make us want to hide.

But now Tetsu has grown up, his eyes have softened and hold a special warmth. His cheeks have thinned and are no longer pinch-able, but are still too fun to poke. He's cut his hair shorter because it gets in the way when he tries to do fine details on his art. And despite how we've changed we still kiss nervously and hold hands shyly and whisper 'I love you' so no-one else can hear. But upturned chins don't faze us and we're not scared to be in love in public.

I've never loved or been loved like this before.

I never want to find out if I can love like this again.

Tetsu is my all.

He is my life.

I can't imagine living without him by my side.

"Marry me," the words are out my mouth before I can think them over. Yet once they leave my lips I don't try to take them back, I don't feel shame or fear that Tetsu will say 'no'. Even though I didn't plan them, they seem perfect for the here and now – perfect for us. In my heart I know I've wanted to say them for too long, now I have...

Tetsu's face remains stoic and concerned for a second longer, but as the words begin to sink in, his eyes grow large and his mouth falls open. His pale cheeks turn a lovely shade of red that he'd probably scold me for and call peach instead. I don't care what colour it is, it's lovely.

Time drags on and he stares at me, I stare back. Why shouldn't I? He's the most beautiful thing in the world…

"Yes,"

And now he's mine.

All mine.

Forever.

I lean in, uncaring of the nurses and new mothers close by, I press my lips to his. They're as cool and dry as they were the first time we kissed all those years ago. Tetsu presses back and his hands clutch at the front of my shirt. I know my chest is puffing with happiness, that my throat is clogged with almost-tears and that my hands are shaking against his jaw. I probably look like a fool, getting all ecstatic like this – I don't mind though.

"I love you," he whispers against my lips, over and over and over again.

It's only when I feel his tears on my fingers that I stop peppering him with kisses. I pull back and stare down at him, emotionally unstable as I see his amazing unchanged, artic-blue eyes open and focus on me. "I love you too."

**Thank you for all the support you've shown and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have! Please review again or for the first time if you haven't before, just as a final farewell! :) If you have a moment, please check out my other fics.**


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